FRANK 
MEKKIWELL'S 
SECRET 


BURT ' L 
STAN  DISH 


THE  LIBRARY  - 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


"  He  saw  four  rough-looking  men  around  him,  and  realized  that  he  was  in  the 
cabin  of  the  mysterious  vessel."  (See  page  205) 


•Y 

BURT  L.  STANDISH 

AUTHOR    OF 

"Frank  MerriwelPs  Schooldays,"   "Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West," 

"Frank  Merriwell's  Chums,"  "Frank  Merriwell's  Foes," 

"Frank  Merriwell  Down  South,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
DAVID    McKAY,    PUBLISHER, 

604-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE. 


Copyright,  1897  and  19*4 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 


Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 


FRANK  MERRI  WEIL'S  SECRET. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN   AFFAIR   OF  THE   HEART. 

Frank  Merriwell,  the  all-round  athlete  of  Yale,  whose 
integrity  and  honest  endeavor  in  the  path  of  right  and 
justice  had  made  for  him  a  host  of  friends,  and  as  many 
enemies,  had  become  involved  in  "an  affair  of  the 
heart."  So  far  as  Merriwell  was  concerned,  it  had  been 
brought  about  entirely  unwittingly. 

It  is  a  very  fine  thing  for  a  young  man  to  stop  a  run- 
away horse  and  save  the  life  of  a  young  girl — that's  what 
Merriwell  did.  But  when  the  young  girl  afterward 
sets  the  young  man  up  as  "her  hero,"  complications  are 
likely  to  follow — that's  what  Winnie  Lee  did. 

And  then  Inza  Burrage  came  to  New  Haven  for  a 
visit.  Frank  and  Inza  had  been  friends  at  Fardale  when 
Frank  was  a  student  at  the  military  academy.  Frank 
had  told  Winnie  all  about  Inza,  and  their  friendship. 
At  first  Winnie  had  been  jealous,  but  she  had  put  this 
feeling  aside  until  Inza  herself  put  in  an  appearance  at 
New  Haven.  Then,  when  Inza  had  gone  away,  and  the 
boys  had  pronounced  her  a  "peach,"  and  spoke  of  her 
as  Merry's  "best  girl,"  all  her  old  jealousy  returned, 
and  she  resolved  to  use  her  arts  to  "cut  out"  Inza. 

Immediately  Winnie  seemed  to  forget  there  was  such  a 
person  in  the  world  as  Frank  Merriwell,  and  she  took  care 
to  bestow  her  sweetest  smiles  on  the  very  fellows  Merry 
most  disliked. 


2  An  Affair  of  the  Heart. 

Among  all  the  fellows  with  whom  Frank  was  not  par- 
ticularly friendly,  Winnie  selected  Walter  Gordan  as  the 
one  on  whom  she  would  bestow  her  sweetest  smiles. 

It  was  shortly  after  Inza's  departure  that  Merry  was 
invited  to  a  party.  He  found  Jack  Diamond  had  also 
received  an  invitation,  and  the  two  went  together. 

As  they  were  starting  out,  they  were  joined  by  Walter 
Gordan,  much  to  Jack's  disgust. 

"Ah,  fellows,"  called  Walter,  who  was  bundled  to  the 
ears,  "going  to  the  party?  So  am  I.  We'll  all  go  along 
together." 

Merriwell  said  nothing,  but  Diamond  muttered  some- 
thing under  his  breath. 

"It's  jolly  cold  to-night,  isn't  it?"  said  Walter,  attempt- 
ing to  strike  up  a  conversation. 

"This  is  good,  bracing  air,"  said  Merriwell. 

"Oh,  say !  it's  altogether  too  bracing.  I  don't  like  cold 
weather.  I  hate  snow.  It's  time  for  snow.  Wonder  why 
we  haven't  had  any  yet?  Ground  ought  to  be  covered 
now." 

Diamond  and  Merriwell  walked  on  without  speaking. 
Gordan  kept  at  Merriwell's  side,  and  did  not  seem  at  all 
discouraged  by  his  reception. 

"I'd  like  to  go  South  this  winter,"  he  said.  "Spent  one 
winter  in  Florida.  Ever  been  there,  Merry?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh,  yes,  so  you  have.  I  know  about  that,  come  to 
think  of  it." 

"Eh— you  do?" 

"Sure." 

"Well,  how  in " 

Frank  stopped  short.  He  had  thought  of  asking  Gor- 
dan how  he  knew  so  much,  but  what  was  the  use?  It 
was  likely  some  fellow  who  did  know  had  told  Walter. 

"I  should  think  you'd  like  to  go  South  this  winter, 


An  Affair  of  the  Heart.  3 

Merry,"  Gordan  said.  "At  least,  I  should  think  you'd 
like  to  go  as  far  South  as  Virginia." 

"Eh?    What  do  you  mean?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  nothing !"  answered  Walter,  with  a  know- 
ing laugh ;  "but  you  are  a  great  fellow  for  the  girls,  Mer- 
riwell — you  cut  ice  with  them  all.  Same  one  was  in 
Florida  when  you  were  there,  I  believe." 

There  was  something  in  Gordan's  manner  that  aggra- 
vated Frank  so  much  that  he  longed  to  catch  the  fellow; 
by  the  collar  and  shake  him,  but,  with  his  usual  coolness, 
he  held  himself  in  check. 

"You  talk  in  enigmas,"  he  declared.  "What  do  you 
mean  by  saying  the  same  one  was  in  Florida?" 

"Same  girl,  of  course." 

"Same  girl  as  what  ?" 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  I  don't  wonder  you  can't  remember 
them  all.  Why,  same  girl  that  was  in  Virginia  as  you  were 
returning  from  your  trip  across  the  continent." 

Elsie  Bellwood!  Gordan  knew  about  her.  That  was 
plain  enough,  and  again  Frank  wondered  how  the  fellow 
obtained  his  information. 

Again  Diamond  muttered  something  under  his  breath, 
but  Gordan  rattled  on: 

"There  are  not  many  fellows  who  can  have  so  many 
girls  and  keep  them  all.  You  must  work  it  pretty  slick, 
Merry.  It  must  keep  you  lying  pretty  near  all  the  time." 

"Look  here,  Gordan !"  said  Frank,  sharply,  "you  are 
getting  somewhat  offensive." 

"Oh,  am  I?  Beg  pardon.  Mustn't  be  so  touchy,  old 
man;  but  the  truth  does  sting  sometimes,  doesn't  it?" 

"If  the  truth  were  told  about  you,  you'd  have  to  get  out 
of  college,  my  fine  fellow,"  growled  Diamond,  unable  to 
keep  silent  longer. 

"There  are  others,  my  boy,"  returned  Gordan,  witK 
nonchalance.  "I'm  not  the  only  dumpling  in  the  soup. 


4  An  Affair  of  the  Heart. 

But  say,  I'm  just  jollying.  There's  no  reason  why  you 
chaps  should  get  nifty.  Can't  you  stand  anything  ?  Every- 
body knows  Merriwell  is  a  masher." 

Frank's  hand  fell  on  Gordan's  shoulder. 

"Look  here!"  he  said,  sharply;  "I  want  you  to  under- 
stand that  I  distinctly  object  to  being  called  a  masher." 

"Oh!" 

"Yes.  I  am  not  a  masher,  and  I  do  not  lie  to  anybody. 
Your  language  is  altogether  too  insolent." 

"Punch  him !"  growled  Diamond. 

Gordan  cringed.  He  had  not  thought  to  carry  the  thing 
far  enough  to  get  himself  into  trouble,  although  he  had 
taken  delight  in  prodding  Merriwell. 

"Hold  on!"  he  exclaimed.  "You  must  be  tender  to 
mind  a  little  joking." 

"Joking  can  be  carried  too  far." 

"You  never  seem  to  think  so  when  you  are  horsing  some 
other  fellow.  Can't  you  take  a  little  when  it  comes  your 
turn?" 

"Confine  yourself  to  the  proper  kind  of  jokes,  and  it 
will  be  all  right.  But  you  were  not  joking  in  this  instance 
— you  were  sneering.  I  give  you  fair  warning  not  to  call 
me  a  masher  again,  for  that  is  a  title  to  which  I  object. 
That's  all.  You  understand  it,  and  there  is  no  need  of 
making  any  further  talk  about  it." 

His  hand  fell  from  Walter's  shoulder,  and  they  walked 
along  in  silence.  Gordan  realized  he  had  reached  the 
limit,  and  he  kept  still. 

Jack  Diamond  was  not  at  all  satisfied.  He  had  hoped 
Frank  would  punch  Gordan,  and  he  mentally  resolved  to 
do  the  job  himself  at  the  first  opportunity. 


CHAPTER  II. 

JEALOUS      WINNIE. 

Winnie  Lee  was  at  the  party.  Frank  sought  her  for 
the  very  first  dance,  but  she  coolly  said: 

"You'll  have  to  excuse  me,  Mr.  Merriwell.  I  may  not 
dance  this  evening." 

"Oh,  but  you  must  dance  once  with  me !"  he  exclaimed. 

She  lifted  her  eyebrows. 

"Indeed!"  she  returned,  rather  haughtily.  "I  had  no 
idea  you  were  my  master!" 

He  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Winnie  ?"  he  asked.  "You 
are  not  like  yourself.  I  don't  know  why  you  should  treat 
me  like  this." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said,  still  more  coldly.  "There 
is  Mr.  Gordan.  I  wish  to  speak  with  him." 

Then  she  abruptly  left  Frank. 

"That's  what  I  call  a  body  blow!"  he  muttered,  as  he 
watched  her  hurrying  to  join  Gordan.  "It  makes  me  feel 
like  giving  that  cad  a  thump  on  the  coco !  It's  plain  he  is 
getting  in  his  fine  work  with  her.  Means  to  knock  me 
out.  Well,  Winnie  and  I  were  simply  the  best  of  friends. 
If  she  desires  to  end  our  friendship,  all  right.  There  are 
a  few  other  young  ladies  in  New  Haven  society  who  may 
feel  like  smiling  on  me." 

Still,  he  was  cut  deeply  by  having  Winnie  abandon  him 
for  a  fellow  like  Gordan,  and  he  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his 
hair  as  Walter  led  her  onto  the  floor  for  the  first  waltz. 

"That's  worse  than  a  body  blow!"  he  gasped;  "it's 
plumb  in  the  neck !  Oh,  my !  how  I  would  like  to  punch 
that  fellow  !  I'll  do  it,  too,  if  I  continue  to  feel  this  way !" 


6  Jealous  Winnie. 

As  they  whirled  past  him,  Gordan  gave  Merriwell  a  tri- 
umphant grin,  and  that  added  to  Frank's  anger. 

But  Merry  was  right  in  thinking  Winnie  was  not  the 
only  young  lady  in  New  Haven  society  who  would  seek 
his  company.  He,  the  famous  athlete  and  football  player, 
was  not  to  be  left  to  himself. 

A  bevy  of  laughing  girls,  every  one  of  them  pretty,  de- 
scended on  him,  surrounded  him,  buttonholed  him. 

Then  they  began  to  fire  compliments  at  him  so  fast  that 
he  was  nearly  overwhelmed.  He  gasped  for  breath. 

"Girls,  girls!"  he  weakly  protested. 

"Oh,  my  brother  says  you  are  a  phenom !"  gurgled  one. 

"Mine  says  you  are  a  marvel !"  declared  another. 

"And  I  saw  you  carry  all  those  Harvard  men  over  the 
line  on  your  back  in  the  game  at  Cambridge,"  said  a  third. 
"How  could  you  do  it?" 

"And  you  dance  so  divinely !"  exclaimed  a  fourth. 

"Why  aren't  you  dancing  now  ?"  they  all  cried  together. 

"To  tell  the  truth,  girls,"  laughed  Frank,  "I  am  waiting 
to  see  which  one  of  you  will  ask  me." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then  every  one  of 
them  asked  him  in  the  same  breath. 

"That  won't  do !"  cried  Frank,  laughing  more  than  ever. 
"I  can't  dance  this  dance  with  all  of  you.  How  are  we 
going  to  settle  it?  Of  course  I'd  like  to  dance  with  you 
all  all  the  time,  but " 

"We'll  have  to  draw  jackstraws  for  him,"  cried  one 
laughing  joker. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  we  can  do,"  said  another. 

"Do !"  cried  the  three. 

"We  can  play  a  game  of  whist,  eight  points,  for  him. 
It  will  be  such  jolly  fun !  What  do  you  say,  girls  ?" 

This  proposition  was  received  with  great  delight,  and 
Frank  was  carried  away  to  the  card-room. 


Jealous  Winnie.  7 

The  game  was  played,  with  Frank  for  referee,  and  the 
prettiest  girl  of  them  all  was  the  winner. 

By  the  time  the  game  was  over  the  first  waltz  had 
ended,  so  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  take  the  next 
dance. 

From  that  time  on  during  the  entire  evening  Frank 
was  scarcely  left  to  himself  a  moment.  Plainly  enough, 
he  was  the  lion  of  the  evening,  and  it  was  considered  quite 
an  honor  to  dance  with  him. 

Frank  gave  Winnie  Lee  not  the  least  attention,  appear- 
ing as  if  he  did  not  know  there  was  such  a  person  in  ex- 
istence. Not  once  did  she  catch  him  glancing  in  her  di- 
rection. 

Winnie  flirted  persistently  with  Gordan,  making  a  des- 
perate attempt  to  awaken  some  show  of  jealousy  on  Mer- 
riwell's  part.  She  laughed  at  Walter's  witless  jokes  and 
pretended  to  blush  at  his  indelicate  flattery.  Any  one 
not  in  the  secret  might  have  fancied  she  was  deeply  smit- 
ten by  him. 

Diamond  saw  all  this. 

"She's  foolish  if  she  thinks  she  can  work  Merry  that 
way,"  he  mentally  observed.  "She  is  finding  two  can 
play  at  that  game,  and  Merry  does  it  with  the  greater  suc- 
cess. Sometimes  she  does  look  around  to  see  what  he  is 
doing,  but  he  acts  as  if  he  had  never  met  her  and  did 
not  know  there  was  such  a  girl  in  the  world.  Oh,  he's 
an  artist  in  that  line  when  he  gets  started.  I  can't  do  the 
trick,  for  I  become  angry  and  show  my  jealousy." 

At  last  Winnie  approached  Jack.  Diamond  saw  her 
coming. 

"She's  beginning  to  cave  in,"  he  thought.  "It's  ten 
to  one  she's  going  to  make  an  attempt  to  reach  him  through 
me." 

He  was  right,  but  the  attempt  was  of  a  different  char- 


8  Jealous  Winnie. 

acter  than  he  anticipated,  for  Winnie  said  not  a  few  cutting 
and  scornful  things  about  Frank. 

Jack  was  indignant,  and  defended  his  friend  to  the  best 
of  his  ability. 

That,  however,  was  just  what  Winnie  wanted,  but  he 
had  not  tact  enough  to  see  it.  It  gave  her  an  opportunity 
to  get  in  her  most  telling  blows,  and  she  did  so. 

At  last  Diamond  opened  up  in  earnest,  and  it  did  not  re- 
quire many  words  for  him  to  express  his  opinion  of 
Walter  Gordan. 

Then  she  pretended  to  get  indignant,  and  away  she  went 
to  dance  with  Walter. 

When  Diamond  told  Frank,  the  latter  simply  laughed, 
and  said : 

"You  played  into  her  hands,  old  fellow.  She  told  you 
all  that  stuff  so  you  would  report  it  to  me.  Even  now 
she  is  watching,  and  she  knows  you  have  told  me." 

Then  Frank  fell  to  laughing  more  than  ever,  as  if  im- 
mensely amused  by  what  Diamond  had  told  him,  and  Win- 
nie Lee  believed  her  effort  to  touch  him  had  been  a  failure. 

Gordan  was  highly  elated,  for  he  fancied  he  had  really 
got  the  advantage  of  Frank  in  one  thing. 

If  Gordan  could  have  known  a  few  of  the  thoughts  in 
Winnie's  mind  his  self-conceit  would  have  received  a  se- 
vere setback. 

Finally  Frank  decided  to  leave.  He  went  to  the  coat- 
room,  and  he  was  there  alone  when  Winnie  appeared  at 
the  door. 

"Mr.  Merriwell,"  she  called,  and  she  seemed  strangely 
excited. 

Frank  turned  sharply. 

"Miss  Lee." 

He  was  perfectly  calm  and  as  cool  as  ice. 

She  hesitated,  and  then  spoke  quickly: 


Jealous  Winnie.  9 

"Before  you  go,  I  must  have  a  few  words  with  you.  X 
must  not  be  seen  speaking  with  you." 

Frank  was  astonished.  Just  what  it  meant  was  more 
than  he  could  understand,  but  he  said: 

"Where  shall  we  go?" 

"Follow  me  at  a  distance.  Do  not  approach  me  if  any 
other  person  is  present." 

He  obeyed,  and  she  found  a  curtained  corner,  where 
there  was  not  much  chance  that  they  would  be  seen.  Be- 
hind the  curtains  they  sat  down  on  a  settee. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 

"We  can  talk  here  without  being  seen  or  overheard," 
said  Frank,  very  quietly. 

"Yes,"  she  said.    "I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"I  am  listening,"  said  Frank. 

"You  have  an  enemy." 

"Several  of  them." 

"But  one  in  particular." 

"I  am  not  sure  I  know  which  one  you  mean." 

"A  freshman." 

"Mason?" 

"Yes,  that  is  his  name." 

"How  do  you  know  anything  of  him?" 

"Never  mind  that.  I  do  know,  and  I  know  that  he 
means  to  do  you  harm." 

"Is  this  what  you  wish  to  tell  me?" 

"That  and  more.    He  will  try  to  injure  you  to-night." 

"Indeed  ?    How  is  he  going  about  it  ?" 

"While  you  are  here  at  this  party,  he  and  some  of  his 
friends  will  enter  your  room." 

"Really?    I'd  like  to  know  how  they  are  going  to  do  it." 

"Some  fellow  has  taken  an  impression  of  your  dooc 
key,  and  they  have  had  a  key  made  to  fit  the  lock." 

Frank's  interest  grew. 


io  Jealous  Winnie. 

"That  is  worth  knowing.  But  what  are  they  going 
to  do  in  my  room?" 

"Wait  for  you." 

"Ah!    And  when  I  return — what  will  they  do  then?'* 

"Wait  till  you  have  gone  to  bed  and  to  sleep,  if  you  do 
not  discover  them." 

"And  then— what?" 

"I  don't  know  what  they  mean  to  do  to  you,  but  I  do 
know  they  mean  you  no  good.  The  one  who  told  me 
seemed  to  think  it  all  a  great  joke,  but  I  think  they  intend 
to  hurt  you.  That  is  why  I  wished  to  speak  to  you,  and 
I  did  not  wish  to  be  seen  for  fear  it  would  be  suspected 
that  I  had  told  you." 

"It  was  very  kind  of  you,"  said  Frank,  after  a  moment 
of  silence.  "I  assure  you  that  I  fully  appreciate  it,  Miss 
Lee." 

She  drew  back. 

"Don't  mention  it/'  came  chillingly  from  her  lips.  "I 
Would  have  done  as  much  for  any  other  fellow." 

"It  is  more  than  I  expected  you  would  do  for  me." 

"More  than  you  had  a  right  to  expect,  perhaps." 

"Winnie,  why " 

"Miss  Lee,  if  you  please." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  he  said,  with  the  utmost  seriousness ; 
"Miss  Lee  it  shall  be  hereafter — forever.  You  have 
chosen  that  it  should  be  so;  I  am  not  to  blame.  I  thank 
you,  Miss  Lee,  for  the  information  you  have  given  me, 
and  you  may  be  sure  I  shall  do  my  best  to  entertain  my 
enemies  who  are  seeking  to  trap  me  to-night." 

Then  there  was  a  silence.  Some  way  his  hand  touched 
hers,  but  she  drew  back  quickly. 

"No  more  drives,  no  more  theatres,  no  more  pleasant 
evenings  together,"  he  repeated,  slowly.  "All  that  is 
over  now.  You  have  decided  it.  I  trust  you  will  never 
regret  your  decision." 


Jealous  Winnie.  n 

"I  shall  not,"  she  said,  coldly — so  coldly  that  he  was 
astonished. 

He  had  expected  that  she  would  melt  at  last,  but  now 
he  understood  that  he  hoped  in  vain.  It  was  plain  that 
she  was  determined,  and  she  did  not  mean  that  anything 
should  alter  that  determination. 

"Very  well,"  he  repeated  again,  rising  to  his  feet. 
"Once  more  I  thank  you.  I  would  warn  you  of  a  certain 
person,  but  were  I  to  do  so,  you  would  think  it  spite  and 
jealousy,  so  I  will  remain  silent." 

"You  need  not  trouble  yourself,  Mr.  Merriwell.  I  am 
quite  capable  of  taking  care  of  myself.  Go  now,  so  we 
may  not  be  seen  coming  from  behind  these  curtains." 

He  left  her,  without  another  word,  for  he  felt  that 
silence  would  be  far  more  effective  than  words  just  then. 

Without  delay,  he  sought  Jack  Diamond. 

"Any  more  dances  engaged,  old  man?"  he  asked. 

"No." 

"Get  your  hat  and  coat.  I  want  you  to  come  with  me." 
,  "What's  up?" 

"There's  blood  on  the  moon." 

"As  the  moon  is  full,  it  must  have  fallen  down  and  hurt 
itself,"  returned  Jack,  springing  the  first  joke  Frank  had 
ever  heard  from  his  lips. 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  Merry,  in  astonishment.  "Have  you 
been  drinking?  Never  knew  you  to  do  anything  like  that 
before.  You  seem  to  be  in  a  merry  mood,  old  fellow. 
That  is  good.  Come  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you  more 
fun  than  a  whole  barrel  of  monkeys.  Oh,  we  won't  do  a 
thing — not  a  thing!" 


CHAPTER  III. 

FRANK  SECURES  ASSISTANCE. 

"Now,"  said  Merriwell,  as  they  were  on  their  way  to 
South  Middle,  "we  want  some  paint." 

"What?"  exclaimed  Jack. 

"Red  paint." 

"Red  paint?    What  for?" 

"We  are  going  to  do  a  little  decorating  this  evening, 
old  fellow,"  laughed  Frank.  "If  I  can  get  the  kind  of 
paint  I  want  we'll  do  some  decorating  that  will  not  wash 
off  easily." 

Jack  was  more  puzzled  than  ever. 

"Look  here !"  he  cried.  "Let  me  into  this.  What  sort 
of  a  racket  is  on  the  stocks  ?" 

"I  know  where  there  are  several  savages  who  are  on 
the  warpath,  but  are  not  properly  adorned  with  war  paint," 
chuckled  Merriwell.  "I  intend  to  see  that  they  are  adorned 
as  they  should  be." 

"Still  I  am  in  the  dark." 

"Never  mind ;  you'll  find  out  pretty  soon.  I  am  going 
to  get  that  paint  if  I  have  to  turn  out  every  dealer  in  chemi- 
cals in  New  Haven.  After  those  savages  are  adorned, 
they'll  not  need  another  coat  for  a  week,  and  it  will  take 
sandpaper  to  get  off  the  one  we'll  give  them." 

Frank  knew  where  to  get  the  stuff  he  desired,  and  soon 
he  and  Jack  each  had  a  package  under  their  arm. 

"How  many  savages  do  you  expect  to  paint  this  even- 
ing?" asked  the  puzzled  Virginian. 

"Don't  know.  It  all  depends  on  how  many  of  them  we 
find  on  the  warpath." 

"Say,  when  are  you  going  to  let  me  into  the  game?" 


Frank  Secures  Assistance.  13 

"Right  away.    We've  got  to  take  Nagasaki  along.'* 

"The  Jap?" 

"Sure." 

"What  for?" 

"He  is  a  hypnotist,  and  we'll  need  him  to  put  the  sav- 
ages under  a  spell." 

"Will  he  do  it?" 

"He'll  do  anything  for  me." 

"I'd  like  to  know  what  sort  of  power  you  have  over  that 
Jap  freshman.  No  one  else  can  approach  him  or  do  any- 
thing with  him,  but  he  obeys  you  in  everything." 

"Little  secret,  old  man." 

"There  is  something  uncanny  about  him.  His  mysteri- 
ous power " 

"Simple  hypnotism,  that  is  all." 

"But  he  seems  able  to  use  it  on  anybody.  All  he  has  to 
ido  is  look  at  them  and  wave  his  hand,  and  they  crawl 
or  stand  on  their  heads,  as  he  may  tell  them.  No  wonder 
the  fellows  shun  him." 

"No  one  would  have  known  of  his  power  if  he  had  not 
been  forced  to  use  it  in  his  own  defense.  He  was  being 
hazed  right  and  left,  and,  getting  tired  of  that,  he  started 
in  hazing  the  hazers.  He  would  hypnotize  them  and  then 
make  them  do  all  sorts  of  ridiculous  things,  but  he  never 
harmed  anybody." 

"He  tried  to  kill  Harris." 

"Harris  was  to  blame.  He  provoked  Nagasaki  till  the 
Jap  completely  lost  control  of  his  passions." 

"Well,  I  don't  care  about  monkeying  with  Matso  Naga- 
saki much.  I  don't  mind  going  along  with  you,  but  I 
would  not  enter  his  room  with  any  other  fellow  in  col- 
lege." 

To  Nagasaki's  room  they  went.  The  Jap  was  a  hard 
student,  for  he  acquired  knowledge  slowly,  although  he 


14  Frank  Secures  Assistance. 

never  forgot  anything  once  it  was  learned.  He  was  just 
preparing  to  go  to  bed  when  Frank  knocked  on  his  door. 

"Who's  there?"  called  the  Jap,  without  unbolting  the 
door. 

"Frank  Merriwell.  I  want  to  see  you  right  away.  Let 
me  in." 

"Not  to-night.    Go  away.    I  will  see  you  to-morrow." 

"To-morrow  will  not  do.    I  must  see  you  now." 

After  a  pause,  the  door  was  unbolted,  and  Nagasaki 
surlily  called : 

"Come  in." 

The  boys  entered. 

Nagasaki's  room  was  of  the  plainest  sort.  It  was  not 
decorated,  nor  did  it  contain  any  chairs.  There  were  rugs 
on  the  floor.  When  Nagasaki  wished  to  sit  down  he  sat 
on  one  of  these  rugs. 

Frank  and  Jack  stood  up.  Nagasaki  faced  them  and 
asked  what  they  wanted. 

"I  want  you  to  help  me  to-night,  Matso,"  said  Frank. 
"There  are  several  fellows  in  my  room  who  are  waiting 
for  me  to  return.  They  had  a  key  made  to  fit  my  door, 
and  have  sneaked  in  there.  It  is  their  plan  to  lay  low 
till  after  I  get  to  bed  and  go  to  sleep.  Then  they  mean 
to  capture  me.  What  they  mean  to  do  after  that  I  can't 
tell,  but  it  is  certain  they  intend  to  raise  merry  thunder 
with  me." 

"How  you  find  all  this  out?"  asked  Matso. 

"It  came  to  me  straight  enough.     I  know  it  is  true." 

"What  you  do?" 

"I  am  going  to  capture  those  fellows  and  decorate 
them?" 

"How  decorate?" 

"With  paint ;  we  have  it  here ;  it  won't  wash  off.  We 
will  mark  them  so  the  whole  college  will  know  them  to- 
morrow." 


Frank  Secures  Assistance.  15 

Something  like  the  ghost  of  a  grin  came  to  the  face 
of  the  little  Jap. 

"You  turn  the  joke/'  he  said.  "That  good  trick.  What 
you  want  of  me?" 

"I  want  you  to  go  along  and  help  me.  You  are  to  make 
the  fellows  powerless  while  I  get  in  my  fine  work  with 
the  paint  brush." 

"Can't  do  that." 

"Why  not?" 

"When  I  am  let  alone,  I  let  others  alone." 

"That's  all  right,  Nagasaki ;  but  I  have  befriended  you, 
and  now  it  is  your  turn  to  give  me  a  lift." 

As  he  said  this,  Merriwell  made  a  peculiar  sign  with 
his  fingers.  The  Jap  saw  the  movement. 

"All  right ;  I  will  go  with  you,"  he  said. 

They  soon  reached  Frank's  room. 

"Walk  right  in,  fellows,"  said  Frank,  loudly,  as  he  un- 
locked the  door  of  his  room.  "I  will  strike  a  light  di- 
rectly." 

Diamond  and  Nagasaki  entered,  stepping  heavily,  and 
trying  to  make  it  appear  as  if  there  were  four  or  five  of 
them,  instead  of  two. 

Frank  closed  and  locked  the  door.  Then  he  found  a 
match  and  lighted  his  student's  lamp. 

"Sit  down,"  he  invited.  "We  are  alone.  As  I  was 
telling  you,  this  Hock  Mason  is  the  easiest  thing  I  ever 
went  up  against.  I  don't  see  where  he  got  his  reputation. 
He  is  fruit  for  anybody  that  can  scrap  a  little  bit." 

"And  he  runs  with  a  snide  crowd,"  said  Diamond,  lean- 
ing on  the  back  of  a  chair.  "Gordan,  Harris  and  those 
fellows  are  all  sneaks.  Why,  it  would  be  just  like  them, 
Frank,  to  sneak  into  your  room  some  night  when  you 
were  out  and  try  to  get  the  best  of  you  when  you  came 
back." 

"If  they  ever  try  that  trick,  they'll  wish  they  hadn't," 


1 6  Frank  Secures  Assistance. 

said  Frank.  "I  carry  a  revolver,  and  I  would  not  hesitate 
to  shoot  one  of  them  down.  It  would  be  a  matter  of  self- 
defense.  Any  one  has  a  right  to  shoot  a  burglar  found 
in  his  sleeping-room." 

All  this  was  said  for  effect. 

Frank  began  to  look  around,  without  seeming  to  do  so. 
It  was  not  long  before  he  discovered  that  one  of  his  ene- 
mies was  hidden  beneath  the  couch. 

Merry  felt  certain  the  others  were  in  the  next  room, 
as  the  couch  was  the  only  thing  that  could  hide  one  of 
them  in  that  room.  Probably  at  least  two  of  them  were 
under  the  bed. 

Frank  took  down  a  cane  and  asked  Jack  how  he  liked 
it.  Then  he  fixed  a  pin  to  the  end  of  the  cane  and  sat 
down  on  the  couch.  As  he  chatted  he  carelessly  thrust 
the  cane  under  the  couch.  It  touched  something,  and 
Merry  mercilessly  rammed  the  pin  home. 

There  was  a  cry  and  an  upheaval.  The  fellow  under 
the  couch  had  not  been  able  to  remain  silent. 

"Hello!"  called  Frank,  springing  to  his  feet.  "Come 
out.  I  have  caught  a  burglar,  and  my  revolver  is  ready 
for  use.  Come  out,  fellow,  or  I'll  send  a  few  bullets  under 
there." 

"Don't  shoot !"  called  a  faint  voice.    "I'll  come  out." 

Then  Walter  Gordan  crawled  from  under  the  couch ! 

"Well,"  said  Merriwell,  coolly,  "you  must  have  hustled 
to  get  here.  How  did  you  do  it  ?" 

Walter  tried  to  force  a  laugh. 

"Oh,  I  came  right  along,"  he  said,  huskily.  "I — I  found 
your  door  unlocked,  and  so  I — I — came  in." 

"I  see  you  did.  What  were  you  doing  under  that 
couch?  Were  you  looking  for  anything?" 

"Ha,  ha !  Nun — no — oh,  no !  Just  got  under  there  fofl 
a— a  little  joke.  That's  all." 


Frank  Secures  Assistance.  17 

"You'll  find  it  the  worst  joke  you  ever  tried  to  play/* 
declared  Diamond,  fiercely. 

Gordan  actually  trembled. 

"Oh,  come !"  he  cried.  "You  wouldn't  hurt  a  fellow 
for  trying  to — a — ah — to  have  a  little  fun?" 

"No,  we  won't  hurt  you,"  said  Frank ;  "but  I  am  going 
to  have  some  fun  myself.  Mr.  Gordan,  my  friend,  Matso 
Nagasaki.  Take  a  good  look  at  him." 

Gordan  looked  at  the  Jap.  Nagasaki  was  standing. 
He  gazed  fairly  into  Gordan's  eyes,  made  a  few  slow 
moves  with  his  hands,  and  then  said: 

"You  must  do  as  I  say.  You  can't  help  it.  Stand  with 
your  back  to  the  wall  there." 

Mechanically  Gordan  obeyed.  He  seemed  powerless  to 
do  anything  else. 

"He  is  yours,"  said  the  hypnotist.  "He  will  stay  there 
till  I  tell  him  to  move." 

Frank  picked  up  a  small  lamp,  which  he  lighted. 

"Come,"  he  whispered.  "The  others  must  be  in  the 
bedroom." 

They  followed  him  into  the  room.  He  had  his  revolver 
in  his  hand.  Pointing  the  weapon  toward  the  bed,  he  said : 

"Now,  gentlemen,  I  will  prove  to  you  my  claim  that  a 
revolver  of  this  bore  will  send  a  bullet  through  the  bed  and 
into  the  floor  beneath  it.  That  will  end  the  dispute.  I 
shall  fire  three  shots  downward  through  the  bed,  and  I'll 
bet  you  anything  that  all  three  bullets  will  penetrate  the 
floor  under  the  bed.  Ready,  now " 

"Stop !"  called  a  frightened  voice  from  beneath  the  bed. 
"Don't  shoot ;  you  will  hit  us !" 

Frank  laughed  outright. 

"So  there  is  another  burglar  here,"  he  said.  "Come  out, 
sir,  and  show  yourself." 

Sport  Harris  and  a  freshman  by  the  name  of  Pooler 
came  crawling  forth. 


1  8  Frank  Secures  Assistance. 

As  soon  as  they  appeared  Nagasaki  began  the  work  of 
hypnotizing  them,  and  they  were  soon  under  his  control. 
His  power  was  something  marvelous,  and  it  was  not  re- 
markable that  it  was  thought  by  the  other  students  that 
there  was  something  uncanny  about  him. 

When  Harris  and  Pooler  were  on  their  feet,  Frank  faced 
the  clothespress. 

"It  is  possible  there  are  still  others  around,"  he  said. 
"If  any  person  is  behind  that  door,  he  had  better  come 
forth,  for  when  I  have  counted  three,  I  shall  fire  through 
the  door." 

Then  he  began  to  count: 

"One!" 

Silence. 

"Two  !" 

Silence  still. 


The  door  opened  quickly,  and  Hock  Mason  came  out, 
his  face  pale  and  contorted  with  rage.  He  looked  as  if  he 
longed  to  leap  at  Frank's  throat,  but  the  revolver  was 
pointed  straight  at  him,  and  Frank  advised  him  not  to 
try  it. 

Nagasaki  worked  hard  to  hypnotize  Mason.  The  fresh- 
man bully  fought  against  the  spell,  and  the  perspiration 
fairly  poured  from  the  face  of  the  Jap  before  he  con- 
quered. 

But  conquer  he  finally  did,  and  then  the  three  were 
marched  into  the  other  room  and  stood  in  a  line  beside 
Gordan,  with  their  backs  to  the  wall. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

Frank  Merriwell  laughed  merrily  as  he  surveyed  his 
captives. 

"Take  a  good  look  at  them,  fellows,"  he  directed. 
"Aren't  they  birds  ?  They  came  here  to  have  fun  with  me 
to-night." 


Frank  Secures  Assistance.  19 

The  hypnotized  students  seemed  to  realize  what  was 
being  said,  but  they  remained  rigid  and  helpless,  with 
their  backs  against  the  wall. 

"You  have  found  out  who  your  enemies  are,  Merry," 
said  Diamond. 

"Yes,  and  I  am  going  to  mark  them  all  so  I'll  know 
them  to-morrow — so  everybody  will  know  them.  Matso, 
direct  them  to  strip  off  their  clothes  to  the  waist." 

The  Jap  did  so,  and  it  was  a  ludicrous  spectacle  to  see 
those  four  captives  obeying  his  order. 

Frank  prepared  the  paint  which  he  had  obtained. 

"Now,  my  giddy  warriors,"  he  said,  when  they  were 
stripped  to  the  waist,  "I  am  going  to  decorate  you  each 
with  a  coat  of  war  paint.  It  will  go  on  easy,  and  it  will 
wear  off  in  time,  but  you  will  not  be  able  to  wash  it  off  in  a 
hurry." 

The  captives  showed  signs  of  rage,  but  still  they  were 
helpless.  Nagasaki  was  watching  them  all,  and  now  and 
then  he  would  make  a  few  mysterious  passes  before  their 
eyes. 

Frank  dipped  the  brush  into  the  paint.  He  approached 
Gordan. 

"My  dear  boy,"  he  said,  "I  will  be  as  artistic  as  possible 
with  you.  You  shall  look  like  a  Pawnee  brave." 

Then  he  began  to  dash  on  the  paint  profusely.  Jack 
Diamond  regarded  the  work  with  great  satisfaction. 

"Put  it  on  thick,  Merry,"  he  advised.  "Give  them  some 
work  to  get  the  stuff  off." 

"Don't  worry,"  laughed  Frank.  "I'll  make  it  thick 
enough,  and  it  will  not  come  off  in  a  hurry." 

Breasts,  backs  and  arms  of  all  four  he  daubed  with 
the  paint,  which  dried  with  remarkable  quickness. 

Then  he  came  to  the  faces  of  the  captives. 

"I'll  put  my  mark  on  you  all,"  he  said.  "You  will 
carry  it  for  several  days." 


20  Frank  Secures  Assistance. 

On  the  right  cheek  of  each  he  painted  an  "F,"  and  on 
the  left  cheek  he  made  an  "M." 

"F.  M.,"  he  said.  "There  is  not  a  man  at  Yale  who 
does  not  know  that  stands  for  Frank  Merriwell.  You  will 
carry  my  mark  for  some  time." 

He  drew  other  fanciful  designs  on  their  faces  with  the 
paint,  and  Jack  Diamond  was  forced  to  smile  with  grim 
satisfaction.  Nagasaki  looked  on  stolidly. 

When  the  task  was  completed,  Frank  bade  them  put  on 
their  clothes.  They  did  not  make  a  move  to  obey  him, 
however.  At  the  command  of  the  Jap  they  resumed  the 
garments  they  had  taken  off. 

Frank  made  a  speech  to  them.  He  struck  a  mock  heroic 
attitude,  and  addressed  them  as  "mighty  warriors."  He 
caused  Diamond  to  smile  still  more. 

At  last,  he  gave  Nagasaki  his  instructions.  The  Jap 
ordered  them  to  go  to  their  rooms  and  to  sleep.  When 
they  awoke  in  the  morning  they  were  to  be  in  their  normal 
condition. 

Frank  opened  the  door,  and  mockingly  bade  them  good- 
night as  they  filed  out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WHAT     FOLLOWED. 

A  number  of  juniors  had  gathered  at  the  fence  despite 
the  cutting  wind  which  swept  across  the  campus.  In  their 
midst  was  Danny  Griswold,  talking  excitedly  and  laughing 
tumultuously. 

"My,  my !"  cried  the  little  fellow.  "I've  heard  all  about 
it !  I  know  how  it  happened.  Oh,  my,  my !  It's  the  best 
thing  Merriwell  ever  did.  Branded  all  four  of  them — 
marked  them  with  some  kind  of  paint  that  they  can't  wash 
off.  Not  one  of  them  appeared  at  chapel  this  morning. 
They  would  have  been  guyed  to  death.  He  put  his  initials 
on  their  faces — 'F.  M.'  They  look  like  Indians  in  war 
paint.  He,  he,  he !  They  will  be  jollied  to  death." 

"Well,  I  don't  understand  how  he  captured  all  four  of 
them,"  said  Charlie  Creighton,  eagerly.  "Such  a  thing 
seems  impossible." 

"That's  because  you  do  not  yet  know  what  Frank  Merri- 
well can  do,"  said  Bruce  Browning. 

"But  Mason,  the  bully,  was  one  of  them!"  exclaimed 
Bandy  Robinson. 

"And  it's  a  corker  on  Mason,"  cried  Griswold.  "If  that 
doesn't  cook  him,  I  don't  know  what  will." 

"How  was  it — how  did  he  do  it?"  persisted  Creighton. 

"Caught  them  all  in  his  room  and  held  them  up  while 
he  painted  them.  They  say  he  made  them  strip  to  the 
waist,  and  he  has  covered  them  with  paint." 

"Well,  I  am  willing  to  admit  I  don't  understand  how  he 
could  do  it,"  said  Ben  Halliday. 

"Held  them  under  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver,  and  they 
didn't  dare  do  a  thing." 


22  What  Followed. 

"Ridiculous!" 

"But  he  did  it,  I  tell  you!  Diamond  was  with  him—- 
they did  it  together." 

"What  were  those  fellows  doing  in  his  room  ?" 

"They  had  put  up  some  kind  of  a  job  on  him,  and  he 
turned  the  tables.  It  was  the  slickest  trick  ever  done." 

"They  say  two  juniors  were  in  it,"  put  in  Ben  Halliday. 

"Yes,  Sport  Harris  and  Walter  Gordan.  You  know 
they  are  both  down  on  Merriwell." 

"Well,  that  fellow  is  a  dandy!  I  should  think  Hock 
Mason  would  feel  like  crawling  into  a  hole  and  pulling  the 
hole  in  after  him." 

"He  has  not  been  seen  outside  his  room  to-day,  and 
he's  sent  to  the  drug  store  for  all  sorts  of  stuff  to  take  the 
paint  off.  He  swears  he  will  murder  Merriwell.  Ha, 
ha,  ha!" 

"Boys,"  laughed  Halliday,  "I  really  believe  Merriwell 
will  cook  the  freshman  bully.  I  didn't  think  he  could  do 
it,  but  I  have  changed  my  mind." 

When  it  became  generally  known  what  had  happened 
it  was  the  talk  of  the  college.  The  appearance  of  Merri- 
well was  the  signal  for  a  score  of  fellows  to  crowd  around 
him  and  ask  him  all  sorts  of  questions. 

Frank  told  the  whole  story,  with  the  exception  of  be- 
traying the  manner  in  which  he  received  the  warning  that 
his  enemies  had  set  a  trap  for  him.  He  explained  how, 
Nagasaki  had  aided  him  in  handling  the  four  plotters. 

His  story  produced  shouts  of  laughter.  Then  it  was 
decided  to  pull  the  "decorated"  lads  out  and  place  them 
on  exhibition.  Harris,  Gordan  and  Pooler  were  assailed 
in  their  rooms,  they  were  dragged  forth  before  a  jeering, 
laughing  mob  of  students. 

Never  did  three  fellows  look  more  ashamed  and  dis- 
gusted. 

Their  faces  showed  how  they  had  struggled  to  scrub 


What  Followed.  23 

off  the  paint.  Everybody  guyed  them.  Everybody  joined 
in  heaping  ridicule  upon  them. 

Harris  ground  his  teeth  while  he  looked  as  if  he  longed 
to  kill  somebody.  Gordan  was  utterly  crushed,  and 
Pooler  tried  to  bluff  it  off  by  pretended  nonchalance. 

Hock  Mason  alone  was  not  dragged  out  of  his  room. 
They  went  up  for  him,  but  he  refused  to  unlock  his  door, 
and  he  shouted  at  them  that  he  was  armed  with  a  baseball 
bat  and  would  brain  the  first  man  who  tried  to  enter. 

They  contented  themselves  by  firing  volleys  of  ridicule 
through  the  door  and  then  went  away. 

Harris  had  thought  of  running  away  and  staying  away 
till  he  could  get  the  paint  off,  but  it  was  too  late  for  that. 
Everybody  knew  it,  and  he  resolved  to  remain  and  face  it 
out. 

All  speculated  in  the  manner  in  which  Mason  would 
carry  it  off.  Of  course  he  was  furious,  but  what  could 
he  do?  "There'll  be  an  awful  fight  between  that  fellow 
and  Merriwell  when  he  does  come  out,"  said  Robinson. 

"And  Merriwell  will  lick  him,"  declared  Halliday.  "I 
am  sure  of  it  now." 

"Then  Mason's  reign  as  a  bully  is  over." 

"Let  us  hope  so." 

Before  night  Mason  had  a  doctor.  This  created  a  stir 
and  further  gossip.  All  wondered  what  it  meant. 

The  following  day  Mason  was  taken  away  to  the  city 
hospital.  Then  it  was  said  that  he  had  a  fever. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A   CHANGE   OF    HEART. 

Hock  Mason  lay  on  a  cot  in  the  hospital.  He  was 
emaciated  and  pale.  His  eyes  were  large  and  staring, 
while  the  hand  that  lay  on  the  spread  was  thin  and  bony. 

"A  gentleman  from  the  college  to  see  you,"  said  the 
nurse.  "He  has  been  here  every  day  to  inquire  for  you, 
but  this  is  the  first  day  that  the  doctor  would  let  him  see 
you.  Your  fever  has  turned  now,  and  you  are  coming  out 
all  right,  so  your  friend  can  see  you." 

"My  friend!"  said  Mason,  weakly. 

"Yes,  he  must  be  the  best  friend  you  have  in  the  world, 
for  no  one  but  a  true  friend  could  have  been  so  anxious 
about  you." 

"Is  he  the  only  one  who  has  called?" 

"Yes." 

"I  don't  know  who  it  can  be.  I  did  not  know  I  had 
such  a  friend.  I  want  to  see  him." 

A  few  moments  later  Frank  Merriwell  came  to  the 
side  of  the  cot.  Mason  stared  up  at  him  with  his  eyes 
larger  and  wilder  than  ever. 

"You  ?"  he  huskily  whispered. 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  sitting  down  beside'  the  cot.  "They 
tell  me  you  are  coming  out  all  right,  old  man.  I  am  glad." 

Then  Hock  Mason's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  he 
turned  his  face  away  to  hide  them. 

"I  am  afraid  I  was  in  some  way  to  blame  for  this," 
said  Frank,  his  voice  low  and  sincere.  "It  has  worried 
me,  Mason.  If  you  had  died,  I'd  never  forgiven  myself." 

Still  Mason  kept  his  face  turned  away  and  remained 
silent.  His  heart  was  filled  with  wonder  and  a  new  sen- 


A  Change  of  Heart.  25 

sation  he  had  never  before  experienced.  It  was  swelling 
with  an  emotion  Mason  did  not  understand. 

"I  don't  think  you  really  meant  me  any  harm,"  Frank 
went  on,  "and  the  way  I  got  back  at  you  was  altogether 
too  steep.  It " 

"It  served  me  right !"  growled  Hock  Mason,  still  with 
his  face  averted. 

"I  don't  know,  but  it  was  pretty  rough." 

"Rot !  I  meant  to  take  you  out  of  that  room  and  carry 
you  somewhere  that  we  could  fight  it  out  and  I  could  lick 
you  without  being  interrupted.  I  meant  to  mark  your 
face  worse  than  you  marked  mine.  It  wasn't  what  I  de- 
served !  You  should  have  used  me  worse,  Merriwell !" 

"Well,  old  man,  it's  all  over  now,  and  the  nurse  tells 
me  you  are  coming  around  finely.  You'll  be  in  fighting 
trim  again  before  long,  and  then " 

Mason  turned  over  and  showed  his  face  wet  with  tears. 

"I'll  never  fight  again!"  he  passionately  declared.  "I 
am  done  with  it !  Since  I  have  been  sick  I've  thought  it  all 
over,  and,  for  the  first  time,  I  have  seen  what  a  big  brute 
I  was  becoming.  I  began  to  realize  I  didn't  have  a  true 
friend  in  the  world,  and  it  made  me  sick  at  heart.  I 
would  have  given  anything  for  one  real  friend,  but  I  real- 
ized that  I  would  not  be  missed  from  old  Yale  if  I  died. 
I  knew  lots  of  fellows  would  be  glad  of  it.  Then  I  be- 
gan to  hate  myself,  and  I  swore  I  would  be  a  different  fel- 
low if  I  ever  got  well.  I  am  going  to  try  to  keep  my 
oath." 

Merriwell  was  surprised. 

"Old  fellow,"  he  said,  earnestly,  "I  hope  you  will  stick 
to  that.  You  have  a  magnificent  physique,  and  there  is 
no  reason  why  you  should  not  be  popular.  If  you  go  into 
athletics,  you  will  become  a  second  Hikok,  and  Yale  will 
be  proud  of  you." 

A  light  came  to  the  face  of  the  lad  in  an  instant. 


26  A  Change  of  Heart. 

"Do  you  really  believe  that  ?"  he  asked. 

"Sure." 

"And  do  you  think  the  fellows  will  have  anything  to  do 
with  me?" 

"Of  course  they  will." 

"I  don't  know.  I  must  be  the  most  unpopular  man  at 
liTale." 

"You  can  overcome  that." 

"How?" 

"I  will  help  you/' 

"You?" 

"Yes." 

"In  what  way?" 

"I'll  show  them  that  I  am  your  friend,  and " 

"Merriwell,  would  you  do  that — would  you  dare  ?" 

"Why  not?     You  may  depend  on  me,  Mason." 

Hock  was  silent  again,  looking  long  and  steadily  at 
Frank's  face. 

"Merriwell,"  he  finally  said,  and  his  voice  quivered, 
"you  are  the  whitest  fellow  in  the  whole  world.  You  are 
the  only  one  who  has  taken  the  trouble  to  ask  for  me 
iwhile  I  was  sick.  The  others  did  not  care.  And  you  are 
the  last  one  I  could  have  fancied  would  care.  I  would 
give  anything  were  I  half  the  man  you  are !" 

He  was  sincere;  his  face  and  his  voice  showed  that. 
Merriwell  was  affected. 

"Mason,  you  may  become  just  as  good  a  man  as  the 
best.  We  are  what  we  make  ourselves." 

Hock  reached  out  and  took  Frank's  hand. 

"Merriwell,"  he  exclaimed,  "if  there  is  a  change  in  me, 
you  will  be  the  cause  of  it.  Hereafter  I'll  fight  for  you 
as  long  as  I  can  stand  up !  If  I  become  anything  worthy, 
the  credit  will  be  due  to  you.  God  bless  you,  Merriwell  1" 

(For  a  long  while  the  pair  talked  the  matter  over. 


A  Change  of  Heart.  27 

When  Frank  went  away  Mason  was  in  a  decidedly 
thoughtful  mood. 

He  was  beginning  to  see  matters  in  the  right  light. 

Frank  was  equally  thoughtful. 

He  had  been  greatly  alarmed  when  it  was  reported  that 
his  enemy  was  down  with  a  fever,  and  he  was  sincerely 
thankful  that  Mason  was  on  the  road  to  recovery. 

"I  guess  I  was  a  little  too  rough,"  he  said  to  himself. 

Day  after  day  slipped  by  until  winter  was  at  hand. 

Then  Mason  came  from  the  hospital  prepared  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf — if  the  other  students  would  let  him. 

Frank  had  determined  to  stand  by  him.  What  this  con- 
dition of  affairs  led  to  will  he  related  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    SENSATION    ON    THE    CAMPUS. 

There  had  been  a  light  fall  of  snow,  and  a  crowd  of 
merry  fellows  were  snowballing  on  the  Yale  campus.  They 
laughed  and  shouted  as  they  pelted  each  other. 

"There  goes  Browning !"  exclaimed  Bink  Stubbs.  "See 
me  nail  him !" 

Then,  straight  as  a  bullet  from  a  rifle,  the  snowball 
flew,  striking  the  big  fellow's  cap,  and  knocking  it  from 
his  head.  Stubbs  uttered  a  cry  of  triumph. 

"Confound  you!"  called  Browning,  as  he  lazily  picked 
up  his  cap.  "If  it  wasn't  for  the  trouble,  I'd  shake  you 
out  of  your  clothes." 

"You  can't  do  it,  you  know,"  tauntingly  sang  Stubbs. 

"Can't?    Why  not?" 

"Can't  catch  me.  You're  so  slow  you  can't  catch  a 
cold." 

"I'll  catch  you  some  time,"  said  Browning,  brushing  the 
snow  off  his  cap  and  leaning  up  against  a  tree ;  "and  when 
I  do,  there'll  be  a  funeral  in  your  family." 

This  brought  another  shout  of  laughter  from  the  little 
fellow,  and  he  let  another  snowball  fly  at  Bruce. 

Being  too  lazy  to  dodge  it,  Browning  put  up  his  hands 
and  caught  it  as  if  it  were  a  baseball.  Then,  with  aston- 
ishing energy,  for  him,  he  threw  it  back. 

Stubbs  dodged  and  avoided  the  snowball,  which  flew 
past  and  struck  a  big  freshman  in  the  side  of  the  head, 
nearly  knocking  him  down. 

"Hock  Mason!"  gasped  Stubbs.  "Now  there'll  be  a 
fight!" 

But,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  who  saw  it,  Mason 


A  Sensation  on  the  Campus.          29 

showed  not  the  slightest  inclination  to  fight.  He  wiped  off 
the  snow  with  his  handkerchief,  grinned  a  bit,  and  said : 

"That  was  a  pretty  good  shot.  Plugged  my  ear  so 
I  won't  be  able  to  hear  for  a  week.  I'd  like  to  snowball 
;with  you  fellows,  but  I  don't  dare  try  it." 

Then  he  walked  away. 

Everybody  stopped  throwing  snowballs  and  stared  after 
him,  as  if  unable  to  believe  what  they  had  seen  and  heard. 

"Jee  whiz !"  gasped  Bink  Stubbs.  "Is  this  some  sweet, 
sweet  dream?  He  wasn't  even  ruffled." 

Stubbs,  Halliday,  Rattleton  and  Browning  quickly  came 
together,  staring  after  the  retreating  form  of  the  huge 
freshman. 

"Did  you  hear  it?  Did  you  see  it?"  spluttered  Rattle- 
ton.  "Why,  he  didn't  even  stuss  at  Cubbs — I  mean  cuss  at 
Stubbs." 

"And  he  grinned !"  grunted  Browning — "grinned  as  he 
was  digging  snow  out  of  his  ear!" 

"Thought  he'd  come  after  me,"  admitted  Stubbs.  "Was 
ready  to  light  out  lively." 

"Tell  you  what!"  cried  Halliday. 

"Tell  us !"  exclaimed  the  others. 

"I  believe  Merriwell  has  cooked  him." 

"Can't  be  possible.    He  wouldn't  give  up  like  that." 

"I  believe  he  has,  just  as  hard.  You  know  Merry  said 
he'd  do  it,  and  he  wouldn't  enter  into  a  combine  against 
Mason." 

The  boys  remembered  that  Frank  had  persistently  re- 
fused to  have  anything  to  do  with  a  combination  to  tackle 
the  freshman,  and  then  had  gone  against  Mason  alone, 
saying  that  was  the  only  way  to  teach  him  his  place. 

Was  it  possible  the  final  encounter  between  the  two  had 
broken  Hock  Mason's  spirit? 

"Tell  you  what  I  heard,"  said  Stubbs,  mysteriously. 

"Go  ahead,"  urge.d  Halliday. 


30          A  Sensation  on  the  Campus. 

"Heard  Merriwell  visited  Mason  at  the  hospital  before 
Hock  was  out  of  bed.  Something  queer  about  that." 

"Frank  Merriwell  is  forever  doing  remarkable  things," 
said  Ben. 

Browning  nodded. 

"I  have  traveled  with  him  some,"  he  said,  "and  I  am 
never  able  to  tell  what  sort  of  a  move  he  will  make  in  any 
game.  He  is  the  greatest  enigma  I  ever  struck." 

"Look !"  exclaimed  Halliday.  "There  he  is  now.  He's 
coming  this  way.  He's  met  Mason.  They  have  stopped 
to  chat.  Holy  smoke!  what  a  nerve  Merriwell  has! 
There's  not  another  fellow  in  college  would  dare  do  the 
things  he  does.  He  is  chummy  with  all  alike.  He  cuts  ice 
in  all  directions.  Doesn't  care  a  continental  what  people 
say  about  him,  and  still  holds  his  head  up  all  right.  WKy, 
that  fellow  is  the  biggest  mystery  at  Yale,  not  even  ex- 
cepting Nagasaki,  the  Jap." 

Tastily  dressed  in  winter  clothes,  Frank  was  standing 
with  his  hands  carelessly  thrust  into  his  pockets  as  he 
chatted  with  the  freshman.  No  one  could  have  suspected 
by  their  appearance  that  they  had  ever  been  anything  but 
the  very  best  of  friends.  Mason  was  not  such  a  bad- 
looking  fellow.  He  had  a  strong  face  and  a  big  nose. 
Still,  as  the  two  stood  there,  for  all  of  the  superior  size  of 
the  freshman,  a  good  judge  would  have  declared  Merri- 
well the  more  manly  in  appearance. 

There  was  something  impressive  about  Frank's  appear- 
ance. For  all  of  his  habitual  carelessness,  his  every  pose 
and  gesture  betrayed  a  reserve  fund  of  energy  and  power 
that  would  stand  by  him  well  in  any  trying  situation. 

Although  jovial  and  bubbling  with  good  humor,  his 
merry  eyes  could  blaze  with  indignation  and  his  handsome 
face  could  darken  like  a  stormcloud. 

Frank  detested  fighting,  as  he  detested  everything  that 


A  Sensation  on  the  Campus.  31 

is  low,  but  he  believed  that,  as  a  rule,  the  best  way  to 
avoid  a  fight  is  to  boldly  face  an  enemy. 

Halliday,  Stubbs,  Browning  and  Rattleton  watched 
with  some  interest  the  former  enemies  who  stood  talking 
earnestly. 

"Jove !"  exclaimed  Ben.  "Merry  is  beginning  to  warm 
up.  He  has  taken  his  hands  out  of  his  pockets,  and  is 
talking  to  Mason  in  earnest.  Wonder  what  it's  all  about  ?" 

"Dunno,"  grunted  Browning;  "but  Merriwell  can  talk 
in  a  way  to  interest  anybody.  Never  saw  a  fellow  like 
him  before.  He  is  posted  on  everything  and  can  talk 
about  anything." 

"See  there!"  palpitated  Halliday.  "Hanged  if  they 
aren't  going  away  together!  Yes,  by  Jove!  they  are  go- 
ing  " 

"Arm  in  arm !"  gasped  Rattleton.  "Bring  me  soothing 
syrup,  chloroform,  any  old  thing  that  is  deadly!  This — 
this  is  a  heart  blow !" 

On  all  sides  the  snowballing  lads  paused  and  stared, 
amazed  at  the  spectacle  of  the  freshman  bully  and  Frank 
walking  across  the  campus  arm  in  arm. 

The  change  in  Hock  Mason  was  truly  most  amazing. 
The  former  bullying  expression  had  disappeared  from  his 
face,  and  he  seemed  dejected  and  troubled. 

It  was  universally  supposed  that  Mason's  dejection  was 
caused  by  the  thought  that  he  had  been  humiliated  by  Mer- 
riwell, but  still,  instead  of  avoiding  Frank,  the  former  bully 
sought  his  society. 

It  was  this  fact  that  puzzled  those  who  were  watching 
the  two,  and  Jack  Diamond  was  by  far  the  most  as- 
tounded fellow  in  college. 

Diamond  had  formed  a  powerful  dislike  for  the  big 
freshman.  To  him  Mason  still  remained  a  coarse,  brutal 
fellow,  with  no  refinement  or  decency,  and  the  Virginian 
abhorred  him. 


32          A  Sensation  on  the  Campus. 

The  more  the  Virginian  thought  this  over  the  more 
puzzled  he  became,  and  he  thought  of  it  a  great  deal.  At 
last,  three  days  later,  he  went  to  Harry  Rattleton  and  told 
him  everything. 

"What  does  Merry  mean  by  having  anything  to  do  with 
that  ruffianly  freshman?"  stormed  Diamond.  "Why,  even 
Mason's  former  friends,  or  chums,  among  the  freshmen 
have  abandoned  him  since  his  downfall  as  their  bullying 
leader." 

"Perhaps  that  is  why  Merriwell  is  associating  with  him," 
said  Harry. 

"Perhaps  that  is  the  reason,"  repeated  the  Southerner, 
in  a  puzzled  way.  "I  don't  see  why  that  should  be  a 
reason.  Does  it  make  Mason  any  better  because  his  own 
class  thinks  he's  too  mean  to  travel  with?" 

"No,  but  it  is  pretty  hard  on  Mason." 

"Hard  on  him — yes.  Just  what  he  deserves !  He 
brought  it  all  on  himself.  What  he  deserves — no!  He 
has  not  received  what  he  deserves." 

"I  suppose  Merry  thinks  he  was  the  principal  cause  of 
Mason's  downfall  and  so  he  associates  with  him  as  a  balm 
to  his  fattered  sheelings — I  mean  shattered  feelings." 

"Then  Merriwell  has  a  great  weakness — he's  a  fool !" 
exploded  Diamond.  "I  don't  want  to  think  him  a  fool." 

"It  does  seem  foolish  for  him  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  Mason." 

"It  is  foolish !  Rattles,  we  must  do  something  to  break 
that  up." 

"That  will  be  easier  to  say  than  do,  old  man." 

"Think  so?" 

"Know  so.  I  have  roomed  with  Merriwell,  and  I  know 
him  pretty  well.  If  he  thought " 

"Well,  we'll  try  to  show  him  the  folly  of  his  ways. 
Are  you  with  me?" 

"Sure." 


A  Sensation  on  the  Campus.          33 

On  the  evening  after  this  conversation  took  place,  Jack 
and  Harry  found  Merriwell  pouring  over  his  Plato  in  his 
room. 

"Hello,  Merry!"  called  Rattleton,  cheerfully,  as  he  en- 
tered. 

Diamond  was  not  so  exuberant  in  his  salutation.  He 
looked  grim  and  troubled,  dropping  into  a  chair  and  star- 
ing hard  at  the  tiger-skin  rug  on  the  floor. 

"Make  yourselves  at  home,  fellows,"  said  Frank.  "You 
know  this  is  Liberty  Hall  to  all  my  friends,  although  many 
of  them  have  not  seemed  to  regard  it  thus  of  late." 

"Know  why  ?"  asked  Diamond,  shortly. 

Frank  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"Know  why?"  he  repeated.  "No,  I  don't  suppose  so. 
I  haven't  stopped  to  think  much  about  it." 

"Perhaps  they  didn't  want  to  meet  somebody  they  were 
liable  to  find  here." 

Frank  put  down  his  book,  got  up,  stood  with  his  feet 
apart  and  his  hands  resting  on  his  hips,  staring  straight 
at  the  Virginian. 

"Just  what  do  you  mean  by  that,  old  man?"  he  slowly 
asked. 

"Just  what  I  said,"  answered  Jack,  doggedly. 

"And  my  friends  have  been  staying  away  because  they 
did  not  wish  to  meet  somebody  who  comes  here?" 

"Yes." 

Frank  was  not  slow  to  understand;  he  saw  it  all  in  a 
moment,  and  he  knew  who  Diamond  was  thinking  of  as  he 
spoke. 

"Are  these  the  sort  of  friends  I  have !"  exclaimed  Merri- 
well, with  a  laugh  that  was  touched  with  scorn.  "Well, 
I  suppose  it  is  the  way  of  the  world." 

"You  can't  blame  them,"  said  Diamond,  grimly,  while 
Harry  Rattleton  writhed  in  dismay,  for  the  conversation 
had  taken  such  an  abrupt  turn  that  the  plans  he  and  Jack 


34          A  Sensation  on  the  Campus. 

had  formed  for  bringing  it  about  were  shattered,  in  a  mo- 
ment. 

"I  don't  know  but  it  is  as  much  as  I  expected,"  said 
Frank,  quietly. 

"Isn't  it  as  much  as  you  have  any  right  to  expect?" 
demanded  Diamond.  "You  can't  suppose  your  best  friends 
care  to  take  chances  of  meeting  in  your  room  some  fellow 
with  whom  they  are  not  willing  to  associate  or  know." 

Frank  was  silent,  and,  feeling  that  he  had  the  best  of 
it,  Jack  went  on: 

"You  sometimes  prefer  to  choose  your  own  associates,  I 
presume.  That  being  the  case,  you  would  be  inclined  to 
keep  away  from  some  place  where  you  were  liable  to 
meet  some  person  you  did  not  care  to  know.  You  can't 
deny  that  I  am  right." 

"I  shall  not  attempt  to  deny  it." 

"Well,  you  see  why  your  friends  are  keeping  away  from 
your  room.  A  certain  person  they  do  not  care  to  meet 
comes  here." 

"I  presume  you  mean  Hock  Mason?"  said  Frank, 
calmly. 

"Yes,  he  is  the  fellow." 

"I  thought  so." 

"A  low,  brutal  ruffian — a  man  of  coarse  instincts.  Is  it 
strange  any  decent  fellow  does  not  care  to  know  him  ?" 

Something  like  a  grim  smile  flitted  across  Frank's  face. 

"You  are  putting  that  pretty  steep,"  he  said.  "You  say 
any  decent  fellow  does  not  care  to  know  him,  and  yet  I 
know  him." 

"That  is  the  mystery.  Why  you  should  be  friendly 
with  that  bullying  scoundrel  is  a  mystery  to  everybody." 

"He  is  no  longer  a  bully,  Diamond.  Have  you  heard  of 
any  bullying  act  of  his  since  he  came  from  the  hospital  ?" 

"No,  but  I  know  he  is  still  a  bully  at  heart." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 


A  Sensation  on  the  Campus.          35 

"Bullies  do  not  become  gentlemen  in  such  short  order. 
He  can't  change  his  nature." 

"It  is  not  absolutely  necessary  that  a  bully  should  be- 
come a  gentleman  the  moment  he  ceases  to  be  a  bully. 
I  acknowledge  that  the  change  from  a  bully  to  a  gentle- 
man cannot  come  about  in  a  moment." 

"Then  do  you  mean  to  acknowledge  that  Hock  Mason 
is  not  a  gentleman,  and  still  you  associate  with  him  and 
permit  him  to  come  to  your  room?" 

"Hock  Mason  is  as  much  of  a  gentleman  as  he  can  be 
at  present,  and  I  believe  he  will  improve  steadily." 

"But  he  is  not  a  gentleman,  and  you  know  it.  Do  you 
wonder  that  your  friends  will  not  come  to  your  room  and 
take  chances  of  meeting  some  fellow  who  is  not  a  gentle- 
man— some  fellow  with  whom  you  seem  to  be  friendly? 
If  they  snubbed  him,  as  he  should  be,  then  you  would  be 
offended,  so,  rather  than  offend  you,  they  remain  away." 

Again  Frank  was  silent.  Diamond  looked  up  and 
watched  him  closely,  feeling  that  he  had  struck  a  body 
blow.  He  saw  his  words  had  some  effect  on  Merriwell. 

"Now,"  thought  Jack — "now  to  follow  it  up." 

Aloud  he  said : 

"If  you  choose  the  society  of  one  low  fellow  to  that  of 
the  friends  who  have  been  true  to  you,  you  have  no  one 
but  yourself  to  blame;  but  it  seems  to  me  that,  when 
you  see  matters  in  their  true  light,  you  will  come  to  your 
senses  and  everything  will  be  all  right  again." 

"What  do  my  friends  expect  of  me  ?" 

"That  you  will  give  Hock  Mason  the  frigid  agitation, 
the  marble  heart,  the  grand  bounce — that  you  will  drop 
him  for  good  and  all.  Then  your  old  friends  will  come 
back  to  you,  and  things  will  be  as  they  were  before.  What 
do  you  say,  Merriwell — will  you  drop  Mason?" 

And  Frank  quietly  but  firmly  answered: 

"No." 


CHAPTER  VII. 
RATTLETON'S  EYES  ARE  OPENED. 

"No?"  cried  Diamond. 

"No  ?"  echoed  Rattleton. 

"No,"  repeated  Merriwell. 

Jack  and  Harry  were  astonished,  for  they  had  fancied 
that  the  case  had  been  presented  so  strongly  that  Frank 
could  not  fail  to  appreciate  the  situation,  and  it  had  not 
seemed  possible  he  would  prefer  a  chap  like  Hock  Mason 
to  his  former  friends  when  he  fully  understood  his  posi- 
tion. 

"You  refuse  to  give  Mason  the  shake  ?"  flared  Diamond, 
angrily,  his  face  growing  crimson. 

"Yes." 

Jack  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"I  was  right!"  he  cried.  "Rattleton  has  boasted  that 
you  have  no  weak  points,  but  I  told  him  you  did  have, 
for  you  were  fool  enough  to  stick  by  Hock  Mason.  I  was 
right.  Merriwell,  you  are  a  fool !" 

These  words  he  flung  straight  into  Frank's  face,  the 
passionate  Southerner  being  aroused  to  a  point  where  he 
cast  discretion  aside. 

Frank  drew  back  a  bit,  putting  both  hands  behind  him 
while  his  face  grew  pale. 

"Look  here,  Diamond,"  he  slowly  said,  "you  accuse  me 
of  choosing  the  society  of  a  person  who  is  not  a  gentle- 
man, but  it  strikes  me  that  you  are  showing  yourself  any- 
thing but  a  gentleman  just  now." 

The  words  were  cutting,  and  they  brought  the  Vir- 
ginian to  a  sense  of  his  angry  speech. 

"I  am  trying  to  make  you  understand,"  he  said,  huskily. 


Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened.          37 

"I  saw  it  was  no  use  to  talk  to  you  in  an  ordinary  man- 
ner, and  I  didn't  know  but  I  could  wake  you  up  by  be- 
ing insulting." 

"But  for  the  fact  that  we  are  friends  who  have  fought 
for  each  other  in  the  past,  your  words  would  have  aroused 
me — to  your  regret.  I  don't  think  any  other  person  ever 
called  me  a  fool  to  my  face  without  afterward  swallowing 
his  words. 

"I  do  not  want  to  fight " 

"You  will  not  have  to.  We  had  our  little  trouble,  and 
it  was  settled,  but  it  will  be  rather  hard  for  me  to  forget 
your  insulting  words  of  a  moment  ago.  Friends  who 
insult  me  are  not  friends  I  desire." 

"Oh,  all  right !"  flared  Jack,  once  more.  "I  think  I  un- 
derstand you  now !  You  do  not  desire  my  friendship. 
Very  well;  you'll  not  be  troubled  with  it  in  the  future. 
Good-evening !" 

Then,  before  Merriwell  could  say  another  word,  he 
caught  up  his  cap  and  rushed  from  the  room,  slamming 
the  door  behind  him. 

Rattleton  was  all  broken  up. 

"Too  bad !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Frank,  calmly.  "He  talked 
plainly  to  me,  and  I  retaliated  in  the  same  manner." 

"But  he  has  such  a  temper,  and  it  takes  him  so  long 
to  get  over  anything." 

"He  will  come  to  his  senses  sooner  or  later." 

"But,"  said  Harry,  hesitatingly,  "really  you  are  wrong, 
Frank." 

"Eh?    How?" 

"It  can't  be  that  you  prefer  a  fellow  like  Hock  Mason 
to  your  old  friends  ?" 

"No." 

"But  you  choose  him  instead  of  them." 

"No." 


38         Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened. 

"You  do— you  did." 

"You  are  mistaken,  Rattles,  old  man.  I  simply  refused 
to  throw  Mason  over." 

"Well,  what  is  that  but  a  choice?" 

"Much.  Look  here,  Harry,  I  believe  in  building  up, 
not  in  tearing  down.  If  I  see  a  poor  fellow  in  the  mud  and 
I  can  pull  him  out  by  giving  him  a  hand,  I  do  not  hold 
back  for  fear  I  may  get  a  little  mud  off  him  onto  me. 
The  fellow  who  does  hold  back  for  such  a  reason  is  a 
moral  coward,  no  matter  how  brave  he  may  be  physically." 

Harry  was  silent,  and  Merriwell  went  on,  warming  up 
to  his  subject. 

"Mason  is  down,  and  it  would  not  take  much  to  put 
him  still  lower.  He  feels  that  everybody  is  against  him, 
and  his  courage  is  not  great.  I  was  the  principal  cause  of 
his  downfall,  and  I  fail  to  see  why  I  should  push  him 
farther." 

"NYou  needn't  push  him  farther,  but  you  can  lone  him  a 
let — I  mean  let  him  alone." 

"Would  that  be  right?" 

"Why  not?" 

"Would  it  be  the  act  of  a  Christian?" 

Harry  gasped  for  breath. 

"A — a  what?"  he  cried. 

"A  Christian." 

"Do  you  profess  to  be  a  Christian?" 

"I  make  no  profession,  but  I  see  no  reason  why,  when 
the  opportunity  offers,  I  should  not  do  an  act  of  Chris- 
tianity." 

Never  was  Rattleton  more  amazed.  He  got  on  his  feet 
unsteadily,  stared  at  Frank,  shook  his  head,  and  then 
sat  down  weakly. 

"It  beats  me !"  he  muttered. 

"I  see  no  reason  why  you  should  be  so  astonished,  Rat- 


Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened.          39 

ties,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "There  are  two  kinds  of  Chris- 
tianity— professed  Christianity  and  practical  Christianity. 
I  believe  in  the  practical  kind,  and,  as  far  as  possible, 
I  have  tried  to  live  by  it  all  my  life.  I  have  always  been 
square  and  upright;  I  have  never  tried  to  injure  any  per- 
son wantonly ;  I  have  been  inclined  to  forgive  my  enemies, 
and  I  have  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  hold  out  a  helping 
hand  to  a  fellow-creature  in  distress.  I  don't  go  about 
boasting  of  these  things,  and  you  know  it,  Rattles.  I  don't 
think  I  ever  spoke  to  any  one  but  you  of  them,  but  if  you 
will  stop  to  think,  you  will  remember  that  I  have  practiced 
them.  That  is  what  I  call  practical  Christianity." 

Rattleton  was  silent,  still  staring  at  Frank,  as  if,  for 
the  first  time,  he  was  beginning  to  understand  this  side 
of  his  friend's  nature. 

Harry  thought  of  the  many  times  Frank  had  forgiven 
enemies  who  had  tried  to  injure  him.  Now  he  under- 
stood why  it  had  been  done.  Merry  was  trying  to  be  a 
practical  Christian  without  making  a  big  show  of  himself 
as  a  professed  Christian. 

Rattleton's  heart  began  to  warm  toward  Frank  in  a  new 
way.  All  along  he  had  loved  this  dashing  young  athlete, 
who  was  a  leader  in  all  manly  sports,  but  now  he  saw  a 
depth  in  Frank's  nature  that  had  never  before  opened  to 
him.  For  a  moment  Merry  had  drawn  away  the  curtain 
from  a  chamber  of  his  soul  and  permitted  his  companion 
to  peep  awesomely  into  that  sacred  room. 

Frank  was  serious — Harry  thought  him  far  more  seri- 
ous than  he  had  ever  been  before.  The  expression  on  his 
face  was  new  to  Rattleton. 

"I  think  you  are  beginning  to  understand  what  I  mean, 
old  man,"  said  Merriwell,  as  he  approached  and  placed  a 
hand  on  Harry's  shoulder.  "Hock  Mason  was  down — I 
helped  throw  him  down.  He  was  in  disgrace,  and  his 
courage  was  broken.  He  did  not  think  he  could  come 


40         Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened. 

back  to  college,  and  he  would  have  abandoned  the  attempt 
but  for  me." 

"You  induced  him  to  come  back?" 

"Yes." 

"Don't— don't  tell  the  fellows  that !" 

"Why?" 

"They'll  say  you  were  a  fool.  Everybody  hoped  he 
would  not  come  back.  His  return  was  the  only  thing  they 
feared." 

"Because  they  thought  he  would  return  to  his  old  bully- 
ing ways  ?" 

"Sure." 

"Has  he  showed  any  signs  of  doing  so?" 

"Not  yet,  but " 

"But  what?" 

"He  is  not  fully  recovered  yet.  All  the  fellows  think 
he  is  keeping  still  till  he  gets  in  good  trim,  and  then  he 
will  light  on  some  of  the  fellows  he  knows  he  can  bully." 

"And  I  think  they  are  wrong." 

"You  believe — just  what?" 

"I  believe  Hock  Mason  is  cured." 

Harry  shook  his  head. 

"You  doubt  that?"  said  Frank.  "Well,  I  don't  know 
as  it  is  strange,  but  I  think  I  am  a  fairly  good  reader  of 
human  nature,  and  I  am  sure  I  brought  about  the  change 
in  Mason." 

"How — by  knocking  him  out  with  your  fists  and  then 
painting  him  when  you  caught  him  in  your  room  ?" 

"No." 

"How,  then?" 

"By  taking  an  interest  in  him  when  he  was  in  the  hos- 
pital. I  was  the  only  person  who  went  there  to  inquire 
about  him,  and  I  was  the  first  and  only  visitor  from  col- 
lege to  see  him  while  he  was  in  the  hospital.  He  was 


Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened.          41 

astounded  by  it,  and  his  heart  melted  the  first  time  T  came 
to  the  side  of  his  cot." 

"I  don't  know  about  melting  the  heart  of  such  a  ruf- 
fian as  that  fellow  is." 

"Not  'is,'  Harry,  but  'was/  for  he  is  no  longer  a  ruf- 
fian. If  you  had  been  with  me,  you  would  have  been 
convinced.  All  through  his  illness  Mason  had  thought 
how  there  was  no  one  who  cared  enough  for  him  to  even 
ask  if  he  were  living  or  dead.  He  had  come  to  realize 
that  his  failure  to  return  to  college  would  be  a  source 
of  pleasure  to  almost  everybody.  He  even  realized  that 
many  of  them  would  express  satisfaction  and  pleasure 
if  they  were  to  hear  that  he  had  died.  Such  thoughts 
made  him  bitterer  than  ever  at  first,  but  he  was  finally 
led  to  think  why  it  was  so.  Then  he  saw  that  he  alone 
was  to  blame  for  the  state  of  things,  and  no  one  in  col- 
lege ever  despised  him  more  than  he  despised  himself." 

Harry's  interest  was  increasing  with  each  moment. 
Still  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  Mason,  the  brutal  bully, 
had  ever  paused  to  think  such  thoughts  or  to  care  what 
anybody  thought  of  him,  even  though  he  did  think  them. 
It  had  once  seemed  to  be  his  delight  to  keep  others  in 
fear  of  him.  He  did  not  seem  to  want  them  to  have  any 
feeling  of  affection  for  him ;  if  they  cringed  with  fear  and 
fawned  about  him  like  whipped  curs  he  was  happy. 

Could  such  a  nature  be  changed  in  a  moment  ? 

Harry  still  doubted. 

"When  I  was  admitted  to  the  hospital  the  first  time 
to  see  Mason,"  Merriwell  went  on,  "he  turned  his  head 
away  that  I  might  not  see  the  tears  in  his  eyes." 

"Scrate  Gott !"  gurgled  Rattleton.  "Ears  in  his  ties— I 
mean  tears  in  his  eyes !  Come  off  1" 

"It  is  true!" 

"Oh,  you  don't  want  me  to  believe  that!  You  arc 
jollying  now,  Merry." 


42         Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  There  were  tears  in  Hock  Mason's 
eyes.  You  are  not  to  mention  this  to  the  fellows,  Harry." 

"Oh,  I  won't — you  needn't  be  afraid  of  that!"  cried 
Rattleton.  "I  don't  want  them  to  call  me  a  thundering 
liar !  I  won't  say  a  word  about  it." 

"Mason  was  astounded  to  think  I  should  call  to  ask 
about  him.  He  was  amazed  to  think  I  should  care." 

"Well  he  might  be !" 

"When  he  found  I  really  did  care,  then  he  told  me 
of  all  he  had  thought  about  himself  as  he  lay  there  ill 
and  alone  on  that  cot.  He  told  me  how  mean  he  felt 
and  how  he  had  hated  himself.  I  saw  my  opportunity 
to  do  an  act  of  practical  Christianity,  and  I  did  not  let  it 
pass.  Then  and  there  I  pledged  myself  to  be  Hock  Ma- 
son's friend,  and  stand  by  him  if  he  would  give  up  his  old 
ways  and  turn  over  a  new  leaf." 

"Great  smoke !  what  a  nerve !" 

"It  takes  nerve  sometimes  to  be  a  practical  Christian." 

"I  suppose  Mason  jumped  at  the  opportunity — suppose 
he  was  eager  to  be  known  as  the  friend  of  Frank  Merri- 
well,  the  most  popular  fellow  in  Yale  ?" 

"Nothing  of  the  sort." 

"What's  that?    He  didn't?" 

"No." 

"What  did  he  do?" 

"Refused." 

"Now,  Merry,  you  are  putting  it  on  pretty  thick  again. 
Why  did  he  refuse  ?" 

"Because  he  said  it  would  injure  me  to  be  known  as  his 
friend.  He  said  he  would  not  pull  me  down  by  associating 
>vith  me." 

Rattleton  nearly  lost  his  breath. 

"Hock  Mason — Hock  Mason  said  such  a  thing  as  that  ?" 
he  palpitated. 

"He  did." 


Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened.          43. 

"Merry — have — you — any — salting — smells  ?  I  mean 
any — smelling  salts?" 

"No,"  smiled  Frank,  "but  I  can  throw  some  cold  water 
on  you  if  you  are  going  to  faint." 

"Never  mind  it,"  said  Harry,  weakly.  "I  think  I'll  pull 
out  without  flying  off  the  handle.  But  it  nearly  did  me  up. 
It  was  an  awful  shock,  Merry — awful !" 

Frank  was  forced  to  laugh  at  this,  but  still  he  protested 
that  he  was  in  earnest  in  all  he  had  said. 

"It  was  some  time,"  continued  Frank,  "before  Mason 
would  agree  to  let  me  be  known  publicly  as  his  friend." 

"Frank!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"I  think  I  know  why  he  did  not  want  you  to  apptar 
friendly  toward  him." 

"I  know,  too." 

"You  are  wrong.    It  was  shame." 

"Shame— no,  it " 

"I  tell  you  it  was  shame.  He  knew  the  fellows  would 
laugh — they  would  say  he  had  been  conquered.  He  did 
not  want  that,  and  that  is  why  he  did  not  want  to  appear 
publicly  as  friendly  toward  you.  I  have  hit  it,  Frank." 

"You  have  hit  it  wrong,  Rattles.  I  am  certain  I  read 
him  aright,  and  I  attribute  a  nobler  motive  to  Hock  Mason. 
He  knew  he  was  unpopular,  and  he  believed  it  would  in- 
jure me  to  associate  with  him.  For  that  reason  he  did 
not  want  it  publicly  known  there  was  any  friendship  be- 
tween us." 

"If  you  are  right,"  said  Harry,  slowly,  "I  shall  begin 
to  believe  there  is  something  in  Hock  Mason." 

"I  am  right — I  know  I  am  right.  And  I  am  going  to 
do  everything  in  my  power  to  make  a  better  fellow  of 
Mason.  I  believe  it  is  my  duty." 

"Even  though  all  your  former  friends  desert  you?" 

"Even  though  the  last  one  of  them  deserts  me!"  ex- 


44         Rattleton's  Eyes  are  Opened. 

claimed  Merriwell,  firmly,  and  his  handsome  face  shone 
with  a  light  that  added  to  the  admiration  which  Rattleton 
felt  for  him. 

"Well,  Frank,"  said  Harry,  rising,  "all  I  have  to  say 
is  that  you  have  lots  of  nerve." 

"Am  I  right,  or  wrong?" 

"Well,  I  guess  you  are  right — you  are  always  right." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  old  man.  Give  me  your 
hand!" 

Their  hands  clasped. 

"Now,"  said  Frank,  "what  I  have  told  you  about  Ma- 
son's tears  and  all  that  is  to  be  a  secret,  you  know — you 
are  not  to  speak  of  it." 

"No  danger." 

"All  right.  For  all  of  former  friends,  I  am  going  ahead 
just  as  I  have  started.  I  shall  stand  by  Hock  Mason  and 
try  my  best  to  make  a  decent  fellow  of  him." 

"You  are  right  about  one  thing,"  said  Harry.  "What 
you  are  doing  is  an  act  of  practical  Christianity." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DI  A  MOND'S     PLAN. 

Jack  Diamond  was  waiting  for  Rattleton  to  appear. 
He  collared  Harry. 

"Come !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Where?"  asked  Harry. 

"To  my  room." 

"All  right." 

To  Jack's  room  they  went. 

Diamond  closed  and  locked  the  door  behind  them.  Then 
he  exploded. 

"I'm  going  to  kill  Hock  Mason!" 

"Hey  ?"  gasped  Rattleton,  in  great  alarm,  for  he  feared 
Diamond's  fiery  Southern  blood  was  aroused  to  such  a 
pitch  that  he  meant  to  actually  kill  the  former  bully. 

"It  must  be  done !"  declared  the  Virginian,  pacing  ex- 
citedly up  and  down  the  floor. 

"You  are  not  in  earnest,  Jack — you  can't  be?" 

"Why  not?" 

"Such  a  thing  is  ridiculous." 

"Why  ridiculous?" 

"You  are  excited,  or  you  would  not  ask  such  a  silly 
question.  Why  should  you  kill  Hock  Mason  ?" 

"To  keep  him  from  killing  Frank  Merriwell!" 

Rattleton  staggered,  gasping : 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  You  do  not  think  Mason  is  plot- 
ting to  do  Merry  up  in  some  cowardly  manner?" 

"I  don't  know  what  Mason  is  plotting  to  do,  but  I  do 
know  what  he  is  doing — he  is  killing  Merriwell  socially. 
For  all  of  Merriwell's  popularity  a  short  time  ago,  the 
fellows  are  beginning  to  turn  from  him  with  scorn  be- 


46  Diamond's  Plan. 

cause  he  has  anything  to  do  with  such  a  lowborn  creature 
as  Hock  Mason.  I  told  Merriwell  to-night  that  he  was  a 
fool,  but  when  I  did  that  I  made  a  fool  of  myself.  I 
should  have  held  my  temper  and  tried  to  reason  further 
with  him." 

"You  would  have  wasted  your  breath.*' 

"Perhaps  not." 

"I  know  it." 

"How?" 

"I  know  the  whole  business  from  start  to  finish.  Merry 
told  me  everything  after  you  left." 

"What  did  he  tell  you?" 

Harry  hesitated.  He  wondered  how  much  he  could  tell. 

Jack  instantly  observed  that  hesitation,  and  he  resolved 
to  know  everything.  Immediately  he  became  cool,  and 
he  set  his  wits  to  work  worming  the  story  out  of  Rattleton. 
Within  half  an  hour  he  had  learned  everything  save  the 
one  thing  Frank  had  pledged  Harry  not  to  tell — that 
Mason  had  shed  tears  when  Merriwell  visited  him  in  the 
hospital. 

Then  Diamond  set  about  convincing  Rattleton  that  Mer- 
riwell was  making  the  mistake  of  his  life. 

"Mason  knows  he  has  met  his  match  in  Merriwell," 
said  the  Virginian,  "and  he  thinks  he  sees  his  opportunity 
to  bolster  himself  up  through  this  seeming  friendship. 
Take  my  word  for  it,  he  is  doing  this  thing  out  of  purely 
selfish  motives." 

Harry  began  to  think  Diamond  was  right. 

"He  thinks  that  as  long  as  he  cannot  remain  the  bully 
that  he  has  been  he  will  keep  his  head  up  by  the  aid  of 
Merriwell.  It  makes  no  difference  to  him  that  he  is  drag- 
ging Merriwell  down.  What  if  he  does  drag  Merriwell 
down?  He  will  rejoice  in  that,  for  Merriwell  was  the 
man  who  caused  his  downfall.  It's  ten  to  one  he  has 


Diamond's  Plan.  47 

thought  this  out  in  just  this  way.  It's  more  than  even 
chances  that  he  is  trying  to  drag  Merriwell  down." 

Harry  began  to  get  excited  now,  but  still  he  hated  to 
think  that  Frank  was  being  deceived — that  Frank  had 
made  a  mistake. 

"I  told  him  all  this,"  he  declared,  "but  he  convinced 
me  I  was  wrong." 

"He  couldn't  convince  me." 

"What  can  we  do?" 

"We'll  do  something  to  break  it  up,  bet  your  life!" 

"My  head  is  all  uddled  and  maddled — I  mean  muddled 
and  addled,"  confessed  Rattleton.  "I  don't  seem  able  to 
think  of  anything." 

"I  am  doing  a  little  thinking,  old  man.  I'll  tell  you  how 
we  can  find  out  if  Merriwell  is  right  in  thinking  Mason 
did  not  wish  to  have  it  known  they  were  friendly  for  fear 
he  might  damage  Merry  in  that  way." 

"How?" 

"We'll  go  to  Mason  and  tell  him  he  is  making  Merriwell 
unpopular." 

"What  good  will  that  do?" 

"We'll  ask  him  to  keep  away  from  Merriwell.  We  will 
tell  him  it  is  his  only  way  of  showing  his  manhood  and 
saving  Merriwell  from  disgrace.  We  will  try  to  get  him  to 
promise  not  to  have  anything  at  all  to  do  with  Merriwell." 

"If  he  refuses— what  ?" 

"We'll  know  he  is  sticking  to  Merry  from  purely  self- 
ish motives.  It  will  settle  that  point." 

"But  if  he  agrees  to  cut  Merriwell?" 

"It  will  be  a  good  job,  in  case  he  agrees  and  keeps  his 
agreement." 

"But  it  will  ruin  Frank's  plan  to  pull  Mason  up." 

"What  of  that  ?  It's  our  duty  to  ruin  it  if  we  can  save 
Frank.  Why  should  Merriwell  sacrifice  himself  for  a 
creature  like  Hock  Mason?  Merriwell's  small  toe  is  bet- 


48  Diamond's  Plan. 

ter  than  the  whole  of  Mason !  One  drop  of  his  blood  is 
worth  all  there  is  in  Mason's  carcass!  You  know  that." 

Diamond's  fiery  words  aroused  a  feeling  of  fire  in 
Harry's  breast. 

"That's  right— that's  right !"  Rattleton  cried. 

"Then  why  should  he  offer  himself  as  a  sacrifice  in  an 
attempt  to  better  the  condition  of  a  creature  like  Mason — 
an  attempt  that  is  almost  certain  to  prove  a  failure  ?" 

"He  should  not." 

"Of  course  he  shouldn't.  Now  you  are  getting  sensible, 
Harry.  And  we  are  the  boys  to  see  that  he  does  not  make 
a  fool  of  himself.  If  we  can  get  Mason  to  keep  away  from 
Frank,  it  will  be  a  good  job — a  job  to  be  proud  of.  If 
there  is  anything  in  Mason,  he'll  feel  that  he  is  doing  a 
good  act,  and  it  will  make  him  all  the  better.  Really,  we 
will  be  helping  Mason  instead  of  hurting  him,  Rattles." 

Harry  did  not  pause  to  consider  if  Diamond's  reasoning 
was  perfectly  sound.  It  seemed  all  right,  and  that  was 
enough.  He  was  carried  away  by  the  smooth  reasoning  of 
the  fiery  Southerner. 

"Never  looked  at  it  that  way  before,  Jack,"  he  said,  "but 
your  head's  level.  You've  got  a  great  nut  on  you,  old 
man." 

Jack  didn't  give  him  an  opportunity  to  think  it  all  over 
soberly.  He  saw  he  had  carried  the  day  with  Rattleton, 
and  so  he  hastened  to  put  the  plan  into  action  before  Harry 
could  think  the  whole  matter  over  again. 

"Now  is  our  time,"  he  said.  "We  should  get  at  Mason 
without  delay,  before  he  can  injure  Merriwell  any  fur- 
ther." 

"That's  so,"  agreed  Harry,  who  was  now  in  condition  to 
agree  to  anything  Diamond  might  say. 
"Let's  go  for  him  to-night  ?"  proposed  Jack. 
"Do  you  dare?" 


Diamond's  Plan.  49 

"Dare!"  flashed  Diamond.  "Do  you  think  I'm  afraid 
of  that  big  lubber  ?" 

"He's  an  awful  fighter  when  he  starts  out,  and  he  has 
beaten  some  of  the  fellows  frightfully." 

"What  of  that?" 

"He  may  think  we  are  meddling  with  something  that  is 
none  of  our  business.  It  may  infuriate  him,  and  then " 

"You  think  he  may  try  to  jump  us?" 

"Yes." 

"You  think  it  may  be  that  he  has  kept  from  beating 
somebody  just  as  long  as  he  can?" 

"That's  it." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right." 

"Then  are  you  going  to  tell  him  he  is  injuring  Merri- 
well,  and  take  chances  of  being  knocked  down  and  ham- 
mered senseless?" 

"You  are  afraid  of  Mason,  Rattles — you  don't  want  to 
face  him." 

Harry  flushed,  but  admitted  that  Diamond  was  right. 

"You  need  not  go,"  said  Jack,  quietly. 

"But  you — will  you  go?" 

"Yes." 

"Alone?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  you  have  a  nerve!  You  shall  not  go  alone.  I 
will  go  with  you." 

"You  may  be  sure  of  one  thing,"  said  Diamond,  as  he 
opened  a  drawer  in  his  dressing  case.  "Mason  never  will 
be  given  a  chance  to  knock  me  down  and  kick  me," 

"What  will  you  do  if  he  tries  it?" 

"I'll  stop  him." 

"How?" 

"With  this." 

Diamond  took  a  k>aded  revolver  out  of  the  drawer  and 
slipped  it  into  his  pocket. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ON   THE  WAY  TO   SEE  MASON. 

Instantly  Harry  wilted.  He  knew  Diamond's  fiery  tern* 
per,  and  he  fully  understood  the  danger. 

"That  settles  it !"  he  exclaimed.  "I  am  not  going  with 
you  to  see  Mock  Hason — I  mean  Hock  Mason." 

"Not?    Why  not?" 

"You  are  altogether  too  fiery,  old  man,  and  you  are  too 
wrought  up  over  this  business.  I  don't  know  what  you 
might  try  to  do  with  that  gun." 

"If  Mason  attempted  to  hammer  me,  I'd  stand  him  off. 
If  he  pushed  me  too  hard,  I'd  shoot  him.  It  would  be  a 
case  of  self-defense.  We  could  both  swear  we  were  afraid 
of  our  lives." 

"Would  you  swear  that  was  why  you  took  the  revolver 
with  you?" 

"Yes." 

"Jack,  I  won't  go." 

"Why  not?" 

"I  can't  trust  you." 

"Had  you  rather  take  chances  of  being  hammered  half 
to  death  by  that  big  brute  of  a  freshman  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Will  you  go  if  I  leave  this  gun  here?" 

"Yes." 

Diamond  took  the  revolver  out  of  his  pocket  and  tossed 
it  back  into  the  drawer,  which  he  closed  and  locked. 

"I  will  leave  it,"  he  said,  quietly.  "I  want  you  to  come 
along,  for  I  want  you  to  hear  all  that  is  said.  It  is  possible 
Mason  will  be  so  angry  that  he  will  make  some  damaging 


On  the  Way  to  See  Mason.          51 

admissions.  If  that  happens,  I  want  somebody  to  sub- 
stantiate me  when  I  tell  them  to  Merriwell." 

"What  sort  of  admissions  are  you  expecting  him  to 
make  ?" 

"Why,  when  we  accuse  him  of  attempting  to  injure 
Frank,  he  may  get  hot  and  say  he  is  trying  that,  and  defy 
us  to  stop  it.  See?  If  we  hear  anything  like  that,  and  we 
can  carry  it  to  Merriwell,  it  may  be  a  body  blow  for 
Mason.  Twig  my  little  game  ?" 

"I  do ;  but  if  the  fellow  is  crafty  enough  to  work  Merri- 
well, he  may  be  too  slick  to  give  away  the  game  like  that." 

"Too  slick  when  he  isn't  angered,  but  you  know  he  is  a 
man  who  permits  his  passions  to  get  the  best  of  him." 

Harry  knew  it,  and  he  knew  that  Diamond  was  another, 
but  he  was  sure  it  would  not  be  a  healthy  thing  for  any 
one  to  say  as  much  to  Jack. 

"If  he  will  not  agree  to  break  away  from  Merriwell  and 
keep  away,"  said  the  lad  from  Virginia,  "I'll  call  him  a  few 
names  that  will  stir  him  up.  Then  I'll  tell  him  what  I 
think — that  is,  that  he  is  doing  his  best  to  drag  Merry  into 
the  mire.  It's  ten  to  one  he  will  flare  up  and  say  I  am 
right,  and  challenge  us  to  prevent  it." 

Harry  looked  dubious. 

"By  Jove,  Jack!"  he  exclaimed.  "We  have  a  mighty 
dirty  job  on  our  hands.  Mason  is  a  bad  man  to  call  hard 
names." 

"You  can  back  out  now  if  you  want  to.  I  will  take  my 
gun  and  go  alone." 

"And  shoot  the  fellow  ?— that's  what  you'd  do !" 

"If  he  crowded  me." 

"You  shall  not  go!" 

Diamond  laughed  scornfully. 

"Why,  Rattles,"  he  cried,  "you  can't  stop  me!" 

Harry  realized  this  was  true.  For  a  moment  he  was  in 
despair,  and  then  came  the  final  resolution  to  go  with  Dia- 


52          On  the  Way  to  See  Mason. 

mond.  He  could  see  no  way  out  of  it.  It  would  not  do  td 
let  Jack  call  on  Mason  alone  with  that  revolver  in  his 
pocket.  Were  he  to  do  so,  and  were  he  to  shoot  Mason 
in  self-defense,  which  Rattleton  understood  was  quite 
likely  to  happen,  there  would  be  no  witness  to  prove  he 
had  not  gone  there  with  the  deliberate  intention  of  killing 
the  giant  freshman. 

"Jack,"  said  Harry,  "you  must  let  me  search  you  before 
we  start." 

"Search  me?    What  for?" 

"To  make  sure  you  have  no  other  weapons." 

A  grim  smile  came  to  Jack's  face. 

"Go  ahead,"  he  said. 

Rattleton  searched  through  the  pockets  of  the  Virginian, 
removing  a  common  clasp  knife. 

"Why  are  you  taking  that  away  from  me  ?"  asked  Jack, 
surprised. 

"I  have  heard  of  cases  where,  in  a  fight,  some  fellow  got 
out  a  knife  like  that,  opened  it,  and  cut  the  other  fellow  all 
up  with  it.  I  am  not  going  to  have  you  do  anything  of 
that  sort." 

"All  right.    I'll  leave  that  here,  too." 

When  they  were  ready  to  leave  the  room,  Harry  sug- 
gested that  Jack  put  on  his  overcoat,  but  Diamond  de- 
clined. 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  don't  want  to  be  bothered  with  that 
if  I  have  to  scrap  with  Mason.  I'll  leave  it  here.  If  the 
freshman  hits  me,  you  must  sail  into  him,  Rattleton.  We'll 
do  our  best  to  punch  his  face  off.  How  is  that?" 

"I  am  with  you,  old  man,  so  long  as  nothing  but  fists 
are  used." 

"Then  come  on." 

They  left  the  room,  locking  the  door  behind  them. 

Mason  had  a  room  in  a  freshman  boarding  house  on 
York  Street.  In  that  house  Rattleton  and  Merriwell  had 


On  the  Way  to  See  Mason.  53 

roomed  when  they  first  came  to  New  Haven,  and  so  Harry 
knew  just  where  to  find  the  fellow  they  sought.  He  also 
knew  how  to  gain  admittance  to  the  house. 

Up  to  Mason's  room  they  went,  Jack  leading.  Rattle- 
ton's  heart  was  thumping  violently,  but  still  he  was  ready 
and  determined  to  stand  by  Diamond,  no  matter  what  hap- 
pened. 

Rat-tat-tat ! 

Diamond  knocked  on  the  door  in  a  bold,  aggressive 
fnanner. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  a  voice  called : 

"Come  in." 

They  opened  the  door  and  entered,  closing  the  door  tie- 
hind  them. 

Mason  was  there  alone.  He  looked  up  in  astonishment 
from  a  book  he  had  been  reading.  Then  he  put  the  booE 
down. 

That  book,  as  Rattleton  saw,  was  the  Bible ! 

When  Harry  made  this  discovery  he  staggered  as  if  he 
had  been  struck.  Hock  Mason,  the  freshman  bully,  read- 
ing the  Bible  !  Such  a  thing  seemed  beyond  the  bounds  of 
possibility,  and  it  is  not  strange  Rattleton  was  nearly  para- 
lyzed with  amazement.  He  looked  again,  to  make  sure  he 
was  not  mistaken. 

No,  the  book  was  the  Bible. 

Diamond  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  the  book.  He  had 
eyes  for  nothing  but  Mason,  whom  he  was  watching  like  a 
hawk. 

"Er — excuse  me!"  exclaimed  Mason,  rising  in  confu- 
sion. "I  thought  it  was  the  landlady.  She  said  she  would 
bring  up  the  receipt  for  the  rent  this  evening." 

"Where  is  your  roommate?"  asked  Diamond,  coldly. 

"My  roommate !"  echoed  the  freshman.  "Why,  I  have 
none." 

"That's  odd,"  said  Jack,  suspiciously.    "Why  not?" 


54  On  the  Way  to  See  Mason. 

Mason's  face,  which  had  not  regained  its  natural  color 
since  he  was  ill,  now  flushed  painfully. 

"Because,"  he  said,  slowly,  "because  no  one  cares  to 
room  with  me." 

"Oh,  that  is  it!"  exclaimed  Jack,  and  his  expression 
seemed  to  add,  "I  don't  wonder." 

"Yes,  that  is  it,"  said  Mason,  with  humility. 

"He's  putting  on  that  humble  air,"  thought  Jack.  "The 
duffer  thinks  he  can  fool  us !  He  can't." 

"Won't  you  sit  down,  gentlemen?"  invited  Mason,  of- 
fering chairs. 

"No,"  refused  Jack,  "what  we  have  to  say  to  you  we 
can  say  standing." 

Mason  bowed.  The  expression  of  his  face  showed  he 
was  wondering  why  they  had  visited  him  there. 

Now  that  the  time  had  come,  Diamond  found  it  rather 
awkward  to  go  at  the  freshman  as  he  had  intended.  He 
cleared  his  throat,  all  the  while  watching  Mason  narrowly, 
and  said: 

"We  have  come  to  see  you  about  an  important  matter, 
eh,  Harry?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Rattleton,  quickly,  "whatever  Jack 
goes  has  to  say — I  mean,  what  he  says  has  to  go." 

It  was  plain  that  Mason's  curiosity  was  aroused,  and 
his  wonderment  showed  itself  on  his  face.  What  matter 
of  importance  could  have  brought  them  to  see  him  ?  How- 
ever, with  a  dignity  that  surprised  Jack,  he  restrained  his 
curiosity  and  waited  for  Diamond  to  express  himself. 

"It's — it's  about  Merriwell,"  said  Jack,  hesitating  de- 
spite himself. 

"What  about  him?"  asked  the  freshman. 

"You — you  are  rather  friendly  with  him  since — since 
he  did  you  up  the  last  time  you  put  up  a  job  on  him,"  said 
Jack,  with  a  bluntness  that  was  foreign  to  his  usual  cour- 
tesy and  politeness. 


On  the  Way  to  See  Mason.          55 

Mason  drew  himself  up  a  bit,  and  Diamond,  for  the  first 
time,  was  struck  by  the  magnificence  of  the  fellow's  per- 
fect figure. 

"Mr.  Merriwell,"  said  the  freshman,  slowly,  "has  seen 
fit  to  show  a  friendly  feeling  toward  me,  for  all  of  the  past. 
It  was  very  good  of  him,  and  I  appreciate  it  more  than 
I  can  say  in  words." 

"I  hope  you  do,"  said  Jack,  quickly.  "We  are  here  to 
put  you  to  the  test." 

Slowly  a  look  of  suspicion  gathered  on  Mason's  face. 
It  was  plain  he  regarded  them  as  enemies,  and  fancied 
they  were  going  to  try  to  get  him  into  a  trap. 

"What  sort  of  a  test?"  he  finally  asked. 

Rattleton  felt  that  the  tug  of  war  had  come,  and  he 
feared  Diamond  would  go  at  the  freshman  in  a  manner 
that  would  arouse  Mason's  anger  and  antagonism. 

Still,  Harry  was  relieved  to  think  the  task  was  not  re- 
quired of  him.  He  knew  well  enough  that  he  would  be 
unequal  to  it. 

Jack  hesitated,  and  then  he  braced  up  and  spoke  swiftly : 

"You  must  know,  Mr.  Mason,  that  you  are  anything  but 
a  popular  man  in  college." 

Mason  winced  a  bit,  as  if  a  sore  spot  had  been  touched, 
but  Diamond  rattled  on  : 

"In  fact,  you  are,  if  anything,  the  most  unpopular  man 
in  Yale.  You  have  nobody  but  yourself  to  blame  that  this 
is  so." 

Mason  made  a  gesture  of  protest,  opened  his  lips,  as  if 
about  to  speak,  closed  them  firmly,  and  was  silent. 

Of  a  sudden,  a  feeling  that  some  consideration  was  due 
this  fellow's  feelings,  if  he  had  feelings,  struck  Diamond, 
and  his  next  words  were  somewhat  apologetic : 

"You  will  understand  that,  in  order  to  make  our  busi- 
ness plain,  it  is  necessary  I  should  talk  plainly." 

"Go  on,"  said  the  freshman,  hoarsely. 


56          On  the  Way  to  See  Mason. 

"Mr.  Merriwell,"  continued  Diamond,  "is  the  most 
popular  man  in  college.  He  made  himself  so  through  his 
own  efforts.  You  must  know  it  is  certain  to  damage  any 
man  who  associates  with  you  at  present.  Later,  if  it  is 
seen  that  you  have  changed  for  the  better,  this  order  of 
things  may  change,  but,  just  now,  no  self-respecting  fellow 
can  afford  to  be  classed  as  your  friend." 

Rattleton  gasped  for  breath.  He  prepared  for  the  out- 
burst that  he  felt  must  come.  He  was  sure  that  Mason, 
the  bully  with  the  ungovernable  temper,  would  assault 
Diamond. 

For  a  few  seconds  it  seemed  that  Rattleton  was  right  in 
thinking  this,  for  Mason's  face  grew  dark  as  a  stormy 
cloud,  his  hands  were  clinched,  his  eyes  gleamed,  and  his 
strong  white  teeth  shone  through  his  parted  lips.  He 
glared  at  Jack  as  if  longing  to  annihilate  the  Virginian. 

Diamond  saw  all  this,  and  he  put  himself  in  a  position 
to  meet  the  assault. 

It  did  not  come.  Instead,  something  happened  that 
astonished  both  the  youths. 

The  look  of  fury  fled  from  Mason's  face,  and  its  place 
was  taken  by  an  expression  of  pain  and  shame  that  was 
pitiful  to  see.  He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  ut- 
tered a  bitter  groan,  and  sank  down  on  a  chair,  where  he 
sat  still,  with  his  face  covered. 

Jack  and  Harry  looked  at  each  other  in  astonishment. 

"Jee  whiz !"  gasped  Rattleton. 

"The  deuce!"  muttered  Diamond. 

Then  they  were  silent,  staring  at  the  freshman,  who 
seemed  like  a  creature  utterly  humiliated  and  crushed. 
They  saw  Mason's  body  quiver  with  suppressed  emotion, 
but  after  that  deep  groan,  which  seemed  to  come  from  his 
very  heart,  not  another  sound  escaped  his  lips. 

Then  Rattleton  began  to  feel  ashamed. 


On  the  Way  to  See  Mason.  57 

"It's  too  bad,  Diamond!"  he  whispered  in  Jack's  ear. 
"You  hit  the  fellow  too  hard." 

"Thought  that  was  the  only  way  to  have  any  effect  on 
the  fellow,"  whispered  back  Diamond,  who  now  seemed  in 
doubt. 

"Mistake.    Go  light." 

After  some  seconds,  Diamond  started  to  speak  again. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  "but  I  wished  to  make  it 
plain  just  how  the  matter  stood,  and " 

"You  have!"  exclaimed  Mason,  hoarsely,  dropping  his 
hands  from  his  face  and  rising  to  his  feet.  "You  have 
made  it  very  plain.  You  are  right — I  confess  it.  No  self- 
respecting  fellow  can  afford  to  be  friendly  with  me." 

Diamond  seemed  relieved,  but  hastened  to  say : 

"There  may  come  a  time " 

Mason  stopped  him  with  a  gesture  and  a  bitter  smile. 

"That  is  not  necessary,"  he  said.  "You  need  not  apply 
any  salve  to  the  sore.  You  have  said  what  you  meant, 
and  I  understood  it.  What  comes  next  ?" 

Now  Jack  found  his  task  harder  than  ever.  It  was  only 
by  nerving  himself  to  the  highest  pitch  and  thinking  that 
he  was  doing  it  for  Merriwell  that  he  brought  himself  to 
continue. 

"Since  you  came  out  of  the  hospital  you  have  been  seen 
with  Frank  Merriwell.  This  has  occurred  so  often  that 
all  the  college  has  commented  on  it.  You  visit  him  in  his 
room.  His  former  friends  are  beginning  to  quit  him. 
They  do  not  visit  his  room  because  they  know  not  when 
they  will  meet  you  there.  They  shun  him  outside  of  his 
room  because  they  know  not  when  you  will  join  him." 

The  bitter  smile  on  Mason's  face  changed  to  one  of 
deepest  scorn. 

"Fine  friends !"  he  sneered ;  "but  true  to  human  nature. 
Go  on." 

Diamond  felt  the  sting  of  Mason's  words,  and  lamely 


58          On  the  Way  to  See  Mason. 

attempted  to  defend  Merriwell's  friends  who  were  holding 
aloof  from  him. 

"No  matter  what  Mr.  Merriwell  can  do,  many  of  them 
feel  that  they  cannot  afford  to  become  familiar  with  a  man 
as  unpopular  as  you  are,  Mr.  Mason.  They  know  it  will 
injure  them.  Even  though  they  remain  loyal  to  Frank 
Merriwell  in  their  hearts,  he  is  deprived  of  their  society  by 
you.  Have  you  any  right  to  force  yourself  upon  him,  and 
thus  rob  him  of  the  society  of  his  friends  and  admirers?" 

For  a  second  time  Mason  drew  himself  up  to  his  full 
height,  and  a  proud  look  came  to  his  rugged  face. 

"Mr.  Diamond,"  he  said,  his  powerful  voice  intense  with 
the  depth  of  his  feelings,  "I  have  never  forced  myself  upon 
Frank  Merriwell.  If  any  person  says  so,  that  person  lies ! 
Mr.  Merriwell  chose  to  be  friendly  with  me.  I  told  him 
it  would  injure  him,  but  he  refused  to  consider  that  fact  at 
all.  He  has  urged  me  to  come  to  his  room  often.  When 
I  have  remained  away  a  little  while,  he  has  met  me  outside 
and  taken  me  there.  If  you  do  not  believe  this,  ask  him. 
He  will  tell  you  I  have  not  forced  myself  upon  him." 

"This  may  be  true,"  said  Jack,  after  some  hesitation; 
"but  have  you  any  claim  upon  him?" 

"None  at  all." 

"Then  have  you  any  right  to  accept  his  friendship, 
knowing  you  are  doing  him  an  injury  in  such  a  manner?" 

"I  respect  Mr.  Merriwell  more  than  I  can  say.  I  do  nofr 
wish  to  do  him  an  injury." 

"Then,  that  being  the  case,  why  do  not  you  shun  him, 
why  not  refuse  to  accept  his  friendship?  If  you  really 
care  anything  for  Frank  Merriwell,  as  you  claim,  you  will 
do  this.  If  you  do  this,  I  shall  believe  you  sincere,  and  I 
shall  believe  that  the  time  will  come  when  even  Merriwell 
5Rrill  be  able  to  acknowledge  you  as  a  friend." 

"This  is  what  you  wish  me  to  do,  is  it?" 

"Yes." 


On  the  Way  to  See  Mason.  59 

"You  wish  me  to  make  Frank  Merriwell  believe  I  do  not 
choose  to  accept  his  friendship?" 

"That's  it." 

"He  will  think  me  a  miserable,  ungrateful  cur !  It's  a 
hard  thing  you  are  asking  of  me,  John  Diamond !" 

"But  it  is  for  Merriwell's  sake.  You  can  afford  to  do 
it,  knowing  you  are  doing  it  for  his  sake." 

"Yes !"  cried  Mason,  his  voice  breaking  with  a  sound 
that  was  half  a  sob.  "Yes,  I  will  do  it — for  his  sake !" 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  SURPRISE  FOR  RATTLETON. 

Diamond  and  Rattleton  left  the  freshman's  room  and 
made  their  way  out  of  the  house  onto  the  street.  They 
stopped  and  looked  at  each  other  under  the  first  lamp 
they  reached. 

"Am  I  dreaming?"  muttered  Rattleton.  "Isn't  it  all  a 
mistake?  Surely  it  was  not  Hock  Mason,  the  bully,  we 
saw!" 

Diamond  pinched  himself. 

"It's  no  dream,"  he  declared;  "but  I  swear,  I  am  not 
willing  to  believe  it  yet !  There  is  something  beneath  the 
surface — something  we  did  not  tumble  to." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"Hanged  if  I  know  just  what  I  do  mean,  but  I  won't 
believe  Hock  Mason  ever  gave  such  a  promise  without 
being  forced  into  it !  He  won't  keep  that  promise !" 

,  "You  are  wrong,  Jack,"  said  Harry,  positively.     "I'll 
stake  my  life  that  he  will !" 

"It's  impossible,  man!    He's  up  to  some  trick." 

"No!  You  hit  him  hard  with  your  plain  .vords — you 
must  have  seen  that." 

"Well,  if  he  wasn't  hard  hit,  he  is  a  better  actor  than  I 
ever  dreamed  he  could  be." 

"It  was  not  acting,  Jack." 

"Hanged  if  he  didn't  make  me  feel  ashamed  of  myself 
for  a  minute !"  confessed  Diamond.  "Why,  I  didn't  think 
he  would  be  ruffled.  I  thought  I  would  have  to  pound  him 
in  order  to  get  anything  through  his  thick  head." 

"He  hasn't  a  thick  head,  Jack,  for  all  that  he  was  a 
bully." 


A  Surprise  for  Rattleton.  61 

"That's  plain  enough  now.  And  he  didn't  light  on  me! 
•We  got  his  promise,  and  we  didn't  get  into  a  fight!  I 
swear,  it  still  seems  like  a  dream." 

They  walked  away,  talking  it  over.  They  resolved  to 
watch  Mason  and  see  if  he  kept  his  word. 

The  very  next  day,  from  the  window  of  his  room,  Dia- 
mond saw  Frank  Merrjwell  hurry  and  overtake  Mason  on 
the  campus,  saw  Mason  turn  his  back  to  Merriwell  and 
walk  away,  saw  Merry  thrust  his  hands  deep  into  his 
pockets  and  whistle  his  astonishment. 

"Thunder !"  gasped  Diamond.  "I  really  believe  that  fel- 
low is  going  to  try  to  keep  his  word !  Well,  it  will  be  a 
good  thing  for  Merry,  but  it  must  be  that  Mason  was  look- 
ing for  a  good  excuse  to  snub  Merry  publicly.  He  feels 
that  he  is  getting  back  into  his  old  form,  and  he  wants  to 
go  up  against  Frank  again." 

Jack  could  not  bring  himself  to  think  Hock  Mason  was 
keeping  his  promise  because  of  a  desire  to  help  Frank. 
Instead,  he  still  clung  to  the  belief  that  every  act  of 
Mason's  was  prompted  by  a  selfish  motive. 

But,  as  soon  as  possible,  he  told  Rattleton  what  he  had 
seen. 

"I  knew  it!"  cried  Harry,  triumphantly.  "I  knew 
Mason  would  keep  his  promise !" 

"Wait !"  said  Jack,  stubbornly.    "I  am  not  satisfied  yet." 

"But — but  you  saw  him." 

"Yes.  He  may  have  seen  me  at  the  window — he  may 
have  known  I  was  watching." 

"Oh,  say,  old  fellow,  don't  be  so  hard  on  him !  If  he 
saw  you,  and  he  meant  to  hang  to  Merry,  he  would  have 
taken  satisfaction  in  talking  with  Frank  before  your  eyes 
and  walking  off  with  him." 

"Then  he  has  intended  all  along  to  snub  Merriwell  as 
soon  as  he  was  strong  enough  to  dare,  and  he  was  glad  of 
the  opportunity." 


62  A  Surprise  for  Rattleton. 

"You  are  uncharitable,  Jack.  I  believe  Hock  Mason  is 
more  of  a  man  than  we  have  ever  dreamed,  and  I  believe 
he  is  doing  as  he  promised  to  do  because  he  thinks  it  is  for 
Merry's  good." 

"Well,  time  will  tell." 

While  they  were  watching  Mason,  they  watched  Merri- 
well  also,  and  it  was  not  long  before  they  discovered  that, 
regularly  every  evening  Frank  was  going  out  all  alone, 
returning  to  his  room  quite  as  regularly  shortly  after  ten 
o'clock.  Where  he  went  was  a  mystery.  He  did  not  visit 
Morey's,  Traeger's,  or  any  of  the  students'  resorts  in  town, 
and  yet  he  was  in  town  somewhere. 

Rattleton  decided  to  follow  Frank  and  find  out  the  truth. 
At  first  this  looked  like  spying  on  his  friend,  and  he  hesi- 
tated. Then  he  remembered  that  a  change  had  come  over 
Frank  of  late — remembered  that  Merriwell  was  strangely 
grave  and  thoughtful  with  a  look  on  his  face  as  if  he  were 
haunted  by  something  that  he  kept  a  secret  in  the  depths  of 
his  heart. 

"He's  been  in  all  sorts  of  scrapes,"  thought  Harry. 
"Perhaps  he  is  in  another.  He  has  had  all  sorts  of  ene- 
mies, and  it  is  possible  a  new  enemy  has  a  hold  on  him. 
If  I  can  help  him  in  any  manner,  I  want  to  do  so.  If  I 
find  he  is  going  somewhere  that  I  have  no  right  to  go,  I 
will  turn  about." 

And  so,  out  of  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  and  from  not 
idle  curiosity,  Rattleton  followed  Frank. 

Merry  did  not  know  any  one  was  following  him.  He 
walked  with  a  swift  step,  leaving  the  vicinity  of  the  col- 
lege and  making  direct  for  the  poorer  section  of  the  city. 

"Well,  this  means  something,"  muttered  the  trailer. 
"He  isn't  coming  here  for  nothing." 

In  the  very  lowest  section  of  the  city  tKey  approached  m 
little  mission  chapel.  Merriwell  did  not  hesitate,  but  boldly 
entered  the  place,  as  if  he  had  been  there  before. 


A  Surprise  for  Rattleton.  63 

"Wheejiz!"  gurgled  Rattleton,  as  he  paused  and 
thumped  his  hands  together  to  warm  them,  for  the  air 
was  biting  cold  that  evening.  "This  staggers  me !  What 
is  the  meaning  of  it?" 

Harry  felt  that  he  had  stumbled  upon  a  mystery.  For 
some  time  he  remained  silent,  watching  and  waiting  for 
Merriwell  to  come  out,  but  Frank  did  not  appear.  He 
saw  several  poorly  dressed  men  and  women  go  into  the 
building. 

Becoming  restless,  Harry  walked  past.  This  he  repeated 
several  times.  He  thought  he  would  go  in,  but  hesitated 
about  doing  so. 

Then,  as  he  was  passing,  he  heard  sounds  of  singing 
coming  from  the  chapel.  He  halted,  astonished  beyond 
measure,  for  amid  the  cracked,  wheezy,  wretched  voices  he 
heard  one  that  was  young,  and  strong,  and  clear. 

It  was  Frank  Merriwell's  voice!  Frank  was  in  there, 
and  he  was  leading  the  singing! 

"Am  I  dreaming?"  gasped  the  lad,  who  was  listening 
outside.  "It  isn't  possible!" 

Then  he  resolved  to  settle  the  question  without  further 
delay.  Up  the  mission  steps  he  went,  opened  the  door 
softly,  and  slipped  in. 

The  place  was  pretty  well  crowded,  and  the  most  of 
those  present  were  wretched  outcasts  and  still  more 
wretched  women.  The  younger  men  and  boys  in  the  place 
plainly  were  hoodlums  and  toughs,  some  of  them  having1 
faces  that  seemed  to  indicate  that  they  were  vile  enough 
for  almost  any  dishonest  deed. 

Harry  slipped  in  without  being  seen  and  took  a  seat 
near  the  door  at  the  back  of  the  house.  On  the  platform 
Frank  Merriwell  was  standing,  leading  the  singing : 

"Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly." 


64  A  Surprise  for  Rattleton. 

The  voices  of  the  wretched  men  quavered  through  the 
lines,  but  they  did  their  best.  They  were  safe  from  the 
cold  for  a  short  time,  at  least.  The  mission  provided  hot 
coffee  for  all,  and  that  was  one  of  the  principal  things 
that  brought  them  there. 

But,  after  a  time,  Harry  was  to  discover  there  was  an- 
other reason  why  they  came  there.  They  were  there, 
many  of  them,  to  hear  Frank  Merriwell  talk  to  them. 
And  he  did  talk  to  them  after  the  singing  was  over.  He 
did  not  preach,  he  did  not  exhort,  but  he  went  right  down 
among  them,  walking  from  one  to  another,  and  he  talked 
to  them  as  if  he  was  one  of  them,  no  better. 

It  was  not  a  lecture  of  temperance — it  was  something 
better.  In  a  way  that  was  indescribable,  he  showed  them 
that  he  sympathized  with  them  all,  that  his  heart  was  full 
of  love  for  them.  He  spoke  as  if  he,  too,  were  in  the  gut- 
ter, as  if  he  were  fighting  the  demon  drink,  but  was  con- 
quered again  and  again  in  his  battle. 

"But  we'll  never  give  up  fighting,  will  we,  friends  ?"  he 
said,  his  voice  full  of  earnestness.  "We'll  make  one  more 
struggle  to  get  up  again  in  the  world.  We  can  do  it,  if 
we  try,  and  we'll  try  with  all  the  strength  we  possess. 
We  know  that  drink  drowns  the  bitter  memories  of  the 
past,  makes  us  forget  our  broken  homes  and  the  lost  ones 
who  are  dear  to  us.  But  it's  only  for  a  short  time,  and 
then,  when  we  can  get  no  more  drink,  the  hateful  memo- 
ries crowd  thicker  and  heavier  upon  us.  We  remember  the 
loved  ones  of  years  ago,  we  see  their  sad  eyes  looking 
mournfully  upon  us,  we  see  baby  hands  outstretched  to 
us,  and  then — then  we  are  ready  to  sell  our  very  souls  for 
another  drink  to  drown  those  memories. 

"But  there  is  a  chance  for  the  worst  of  us.  We  can 
throw  off  the  iron  fetters  if  we  make  one  more  desperate 
struggle.  There  is  always  hope  as  long  as  there  is  life. 
iWe  can  become  men  again,  and  we  can  go  back  to  some  of 


A  Surprise  for  Rattleton.  65 

the  dear  ones  who  had  waited  for  us  so  long — who  are 
waiting  for  us  to-night.  If  there  are  no  dear  ones  wait- 
ing, we  can  make  a  new  place  for  ourselves  in  the  world, 
we  can  become  good  men  and  women,  and  in  time  there 
will  be  dear  ones  who  love  and  respect  us  as  we  deserve." 

As  he  went  on  he  became  more  and  more  eloquent.  It 
was  wonderful  to  see  how  the  old  vagrants  hung  onto 
every  word  he  uttered.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  how  he 
swayed  them  by  the  music  of  his  voice  and  the  eloquence 
of  his  words. 

Then,  when  he  finished,  he  showed  them  the  pledge, 
which  was  ready  for  them  to  sign.  He  held  it  out  to 
them  as  their  anchor  of  hope. 

A  miserable,  blear-eyed,  tottering  wreck  arose  to  his 
feet,  tears  streaming  down  his  bloated  face. 

"I  will  sign  it!"  he  cried,  brokenly.  "I'll  make  one 
more  attempt.  Somewhere  I  have  a  wife  and  a  son.  He 
must  be  a  young  man  now.  Ain't  seen  him  for  years — • 
never  expected  to  see  him  again.  But  I'll  sign  the  pledge, 
and  I'll  try  to  reform.  Perhaps — sometime — I  may  be 
man  enough  to  go  back  to  my  wife  and  my  boy.  I've  tried 
before,  but  I'll  try  again." 

He  went  up  to  the  table  to  sign  the  pledge.  Frank  took 
him  by  the  hand,  shook  it  joyfully,  spoke  earnest,  encour- 
aging words  to  him,  and  he  cried  like  a  child. 

And  then  Harry  Rattleton,  choking  with  his  own  emo- 
tion, dazed  by  the  wonder  of  what  he  had  seen  and  heard, 
got  up  and  slipped  out  of  the  building. 

"Merciful  goodness !"  he  gasped,  when  he  reached  the 
street.  "What  will  Merry  do  next?  This  is  another  ex- 
ample of  practical  Christianity," 


CHAPTER  XI. 

DIAMOND   LOSES  HIS  TEMPER. 

On  the  way  back  to  his  room,  Rattleton  passed  Morey's. 
Some  roystering  lads  were  coming  out,  and  another  party 
was  entering.  Harry  was  recognized,  and  they  called  to 
him  to  join  them,  but  he  refused  and  continued  on  his  way. 

Straight  to  his  room  Rattleton  went.  Alone  he  sat 
down  and  meditated  on  his  discovery.  He  thought  of 
Frank  Merriwell — first  as  the  jolly  freshman  he  had 
known,  the  leader  of  his  class  in  its  war  against  the  sopho- 
mores; then  he  thought  of  Frank  as  an  athlete,  a  pitcher 
on  the  baseball  team,  and  one  of  the  most  enthusiastic 
football  players  at  Yale;  he  remembered  Frank  at  the 
poker  table,  when  Merry  for  a  short  time  had  yielded  to 
his  one  great  weakness,  the  passion  for  gambling;  then 
came  memories  of  the  famous  trip  across  the  continent,  and 
the  many  thrilling  adventures  encountered,  through  all  of 
which  Frank  had  been  the  leader ;  finally  to  his  fancy  came 
a  picture  of  the  last  football  game  between  Yale  and  Har- 
vard, when  Frank  was  carried  from  the  field  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  his  madly  cheering  admirers,  the  hero  of  the  hour, 
having  won  the  game  by  one  of  the  most  remarkable  plays 
ever  seen  on  the  gridiron. 

But  of  all  the  strange  scenes  with  which  Frank  Merri- 
well was  associated,  Harry  Rattleton  felt  that  he  had  wit- 
nessed the  most  remarkable  in  the  little  mission  that 
evening. 

He  gasped  for  breath  as  he  thought  of  Frank  Merriwell, 
a  fine  Greek  scholar,  a  magnificent  athlete,  a  fellow  with 
the  most  delicate  instincts  and  the  most  scrupulous  habits 
of  cleanliness,  the  most  popular  man  at  Yale,  surrounded 
by  greasy,  blear-eyed,  besotted  wretches  of  the  gutter,  and 


Diamond  Loses  His  Temper.          67 

talking  to  them  exactly  as  if  he  was  one  of  them,  and  not 
a  bit  better. 

*'If  I  were  to  know  that  fellow  a  thousand  years,  I'd 
never  fully  understand  him!"  exclaimed  Harry.  "There 
are  unsounded  depths  to  his  nature,  and  I  believe  Frank 
Merriwell  is  a  practical  Christian.  He  does  not  make 
much  of  a  show  of  being  a  Christian,  but  his  every  act 
since  I  have  known  him  has  been  an  act  of  manliness  and 
justice.  If  he  doesn't  become  one  of  the  greatest  and 
grandest  men  the  world  has  ever  seen,  it  will  be  a 
wonder." 

Then,  when  Harry  thought  that  there  was  a  part  of 
Frank's  life  of  which  his  best  friends  knew  very  little, 
when  he  thought  that  Frank  had  traveled  in  many  foreign 
lands,  and  met  with  scores  of  thrilling  adventures  before 
coming  to  Yale,  yet  never  boasted  of  what  he  had  done, 
never  even  mentioned  those  travels  and  adventures  unless 
asked  about  them — when  Harry  thought  of  that  he  was 
stupefied. 

From  that  night  Harry  Rattleton  regarded  Frank  Mer- 
riwell with  a  feeling  of  awe  that  he  could  never  fully  over- 
come. He  remembered  how  familiar  he  had  been  with 
Frank  in  the  past,  and  was  astonished  by  it. 

Harry  did  not  tell  what  he  had  seen  down  at  the  little 
mission  in  the  slums;  he  kept  it  a  secret.  Frank  Merri- 
well was  not  saying  anything  about  it,  and  Rattleton 
thought  it  possible  he  did  not  wish  it  generally  known 
that  he  was  playing  the  Good  Samaritan  in  such  a  manner. 

Not  that  Harry  thought  for  an  instant  Frank  would  be 
ashamed  to  have  it  known.  He  knew  Merriwell  well 
enough  to  be  sure  Frank  would  not  do  a  thing  deliberately 
that  would  bring  the  least  sense  of  shame  to  his  heart. 

For  a  few  days  it  seemed  that  a  change  had  come  over 
Rattleton.  He  was  not  the  same  rattle-brained  fellow  that 
he  had  been,  and  a  new  look  of  thoughtfulness  was  to  be 


68          Diamond  Loses  His  Temper. 

seen  on  his  face.  Up  to  that  time  it  had  seemed  that  he 
had  never  paused  to  think  seriously  about  anything. 

Diamond,  in  the  meantime,  was  watching  Mason  like  a 
hawk.  One  day  he  said  to  Harry : 

"The  freshman  is  priming  himself." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?"  Rattleton  asked. 

"He  is  preparing  for  the  assault  on  Merriwell." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"Something  I  saw  last  night." 

"What  was  it?" 

"I  saw  Mason  stand  up  to  the  bar  in  Jackson's  joint 
and  drink  whiskey  till  he  was  loaded." 

"Wheejiz!"  exclaimed  Harry.  "Did  he  get  off  his 
feet?" 

"Not  quite,  but  he  was  jagged,  and  he  punched  a  fel- 
low named  Wiggins." 

"Who  is  Wiggins?" 

"A  freshman." 

"Did  Mason  hit  him  hard?" 

"Hard  enough  to  knock  him  down." 

"Then  the  bully  is  up  to  his  old  tricks !" 

"That  is  the  way  it  looks  from  the  road.  It  won't  be 
long  before  he'll  go  on  the  warpath  for  Merriwell." 

"What  did  Wiggins  do  that  Mason  struck  him?" 

"Called  Mason  a  coward.  Said  Mason  showed  he  was  a 
coward  by  failing  to  lick  Merry  after  getting  out  of  hos- 
pital. I  was  watching  it  all,  and  I  saw  the  devil  leap  into 
the  big  fellow's  eyes.  He  smashed  Wiggins  a  corker." 

"Well,"  cried  Harry,  "I  don't  know  as  I  blame  him  for 
that !  A  fellow  can't  stand  everything." 

"But  think  how  mild  he  has  pretended  to  be  of  late.  He 
has  been  putting  it  on  all  the  time." 

"Perhaps  he  would  not  have  struck  Wiggins  if  he  hadn't 
been  drinking.  A  man  is  not  responsible  for  everything 
he  does  when  he  is  filled  to  the  chin  with  whiskey." 


Diamond  Loses  His  Temper.          69 

Diamond  scowled. 

"I  don't  admire  the  way  you  stand  up  for  Mason,"  he 
said. 

"I  can't  help  that,"  flung  back  Harry,  growing  excited. 
"If  the  fellow  is  making  an  attempt  to  become  a  man,  I 
am  going  to  stand  up  for  him.  There  are  plenty  of  others 
who  will  try  to  push  him  down." 

"Is  that  an  insinuation  that  I  am  trying  to  push  him 
down?" 

The  Virginian  was  getting  angry,  and  Harry  was  not 
desirous  of  trouble  with  Diamond,  so  he  quickly  said : 

"Not  that,  old  man;  but  you  know  I  am  right — you 
know  Mason  has  so  many  enemies  that  he  has  little  show 
to  rise  here." 

"Let  him  keep  in  his  place!"  flashed  Jack.  "He  has 
poor  blood  in  him,  and " 

"I  know  you  stand  by  the  old  saw  that  blood  will  tell, 
but  you  do  not  know  anything  about  Mason's  father  and 
mother.  It  is  possible  they  may  be  fine  people." 

"Not  on  your  life!  There  is  a  bad  streak  in  one  side 
or  the  other.  Either  it  comes  from  his  mother  or  his 
father.  I'll  wager  something  his  father  is  a  low  creature." 

"But  there  is  some  good  in  Mason — I'll  bet  my  life  on  it. 
Within  him  the  good  is  battling  to  overcome  the  bad." 

"Well,  it  has  a  poor  show  with  such  a  fellow." 

"It  has  a  poor  show  if  everybody  gives  him  a  kick  in- 
stead of  a  helping  hand.  Merriwell  was  trying  to  help  lift 
him  up,  but  we  stuck  our  noses  in  and  spoiled  everything." 

"You  talk  as  if  we  were  wrong  in  doing  that." 

"We  had  no  misness  to  beddle — I  mean,  no  business  to 
meddle." 

Diamond  was  thoroughly  disgusted. 

"Rattleton,  you  make  me  sick!"  he  cried.  "Go  lay 
down  and  die!  There  is  a  soft  spot  somewhere  about 
you!" 

Then  he  angrily  walked  away. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AN    ACT    OF    COURAGE. 

Diamond  was  fully  satisfied  that  he  and  Rattleton  had 
done  a  friendly  act  for  Frank  Merriwell.  He  could  see  no 
reason  why  they  should  have  any  consideration  for  the 
feelings  of  Hock  Mason,  who  had  never  been  anything 
but  an  enemy  to  both  of  them ;  but  surely  they  were  under 
the  greatest  obligations  to  Merriwell,  and  it  was  their  duty 
to  do  anything  in  their  power  for  him. 

The  natures  of  Jack  Diamond  and  Harry  Rattleton 
were  so  unlike  that  there  was  a  constant  clash  between 
them,  even  when  they  were  working  to  accomplish  the 
same  object. 

As  Jack  walked  away  Harry  wondered  what  he  would 
say  if  he  knew  that  Frank  visited  the  little  mission  in  the 
slums  and  mingled  with  the  bummers  and  toughs  who 
gathered  there  as  if  he  were  one  of  them. 

"He'd  think  Merriwell  crazy,"  muttered  Rattleton. 

That  afternoon  as  Rattleton  came  out  upon  the  campus, 
he  saw  a  number  of  students  guying  a  drunken  bummer 
near  the  fence. 

"What's  that  creature  here  for?"  came  angrily  from 
Harry's  lips.  "It's  a  disgrace  to  let  such  wretches  wander 
in  here!" 

He  approached  the  group,  but  stopped  suddenly  when 
he  obtained  a  fair  look  of  the  drunken  man's  face. 

"Wheejiz!"  gurgled  Rattleton. 

He  had  made  a  discovery.    He  had  seen  the  man  before. 

"It's  the  vag  who  signed  the  pledge  down  at  the  mis- 
sion the  other  night !"  exclaimed  Harry.  "He's  drunk  as 


An  Act  of  Courage.  7 1 

he  can  be !  It's  plain  Merry  didn't  do  much  good  in  this 
instance." 

One  of  the  students  shied  a  chunk  of  snow  at  the  tramp 
and  knocked  his  hat  oil  his  head. 

Cursing  them  all,  the  man  attempted  to  pick  up  his  hat, 
but  rolled  over  helplessly. 

The  thoughtless  students  shouted  with  laughter. 

"Hall's  got  him  down !"  cried  one.    "Alcohol,  I  mean." 

"Say,  old  gent,"  called  another,  "what's  the  matter  with 
you?  Is  the  ground  unsteady?" 

"Are  you  drunk?"  asked  another,  "or  are  you  simply — 
drunk?" 

Then  one  of  them  sang  a  verse  of  "Booze,  Beautiful 
Booze." 

The  inebriated  man  secured  his  hat  and  attempted  to  get 
upon  his  feet,  but  when  he  was  part  way  up,  one  of  the  lads 
ran  forward  and  pushed  him  over. 

He  cursed  at  them  again. 

"I've  got  a  son !"  he  cried,  "a  fine  son  who  is  here  at 
this  college !  I've  come  to  see  him.  Is  he  'shamed  to  come 
out  and  see  his  father — his  poor  old  father  ?" 

"He  ought  to  be,  if  he  isn't,"  said  one  of  the  fellows  at 
the  fence.  "I'm  sure  I'd  be." 

The  drunkard  sat  up  and  shook  his  fist  at  them. 

"Y're  all  a  lot  of  devils!"  he  screamed.  "I'm  goin'  to 
find  m'  boy,  and  I'll  take  him  'way  from  here.  Didn't 
know  he  was  here  till  yesterday.  Where  is  my  son  ?" 

"Where  is  an  officer?"  cried  one  of  the  boys.  "This 
wretch  should  be  lodged  for  the  winter  where  he'll  have  to 
work  for  his  board." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  the  others. 

The  tramp  began  to  cry  in  a  maudlin  manner. 

"Whole  world's  down  on  me — always  was!"  he  said, 
thickly.  "World  always  kicks  a  man  when  he  goes  wrong 
• — helps  push  him  into  the  gutter.  Don't  have  no  sym- 


72  An  Act  of  Courage. 

pathy.  Now  my  own  son's  'shamed  of  his  father,  and 
don't  dare  to  come  out  and  see  him." 

Rattleton's  heart  was  filled  with  mingled  disgust  and 
pity.  He  longed  to  help  the  poor  old  wretch  up,  but  hesi- 
tated because  he  knew  he  would  be  guyed  and  jollied  by 
the  students.  His  courage  failed  him  quite. 

It  was  plain  that  the  lads  at  the  fence  were  touched  by 
a  feeling  of  shame  at  last,  for  they  kept  away  from  the 
drunken  man,  ceasing  to  torment  him. 

Across  the  campus  came  a  straight,  manly-looking 
youth.  He  espied  the  gathering  at  the  fence,  and  he  saw 
the  man  on  the  ground.  Then  he  hurried  toward  the  spot. 

It  was  Frank  Merriwell. 

"What's  this  ?"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  reached  the  side  of 
the  old  bummer.  "You  ?" 

The  man  looked  up  and  recognized  Frank. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  thickly.  "It's  no  use — drunk  again! 
Broke  m*  pledge — can't  keep  it!  Old  man's  gone  to 
devil !  Let  him  go !  No  use  to  try  to  help  him !" 

"Oh,  we'll  try  again!"  said  Frank,  feis  voice  as  tender 
as  if  he  were  speaking  to  a  woman.  "We  won't  give  it 
up  as  long  as  there  is  life !  We'll  try  again,  my  friend,  and 
we'll  win  at  last,  I  know  we  will !" 

He  helped  the  bummer  to  his  feet,  while  the  lads  at  the 
fence  looked  on  in  amazement. 

"Oh,  you're  a  good  boy — a  noble  boy !"  sobbed  the  man. 
"You  ain't  like  devils  there !"  with  a  faltering,  feeble  ges- 
ture toward  the  group  near  by.  "You  are  a  man !  They 
push  a  man  down,  you  lift  a  man  up.  That's  difference." 

Some  'of  the  lads  at  the  fence  laughed,  while  some 
flushed  with  shame. 

"Come,"  said  Frank,  speaking  kindly  to  the  unsteady 
wretch,  "we  will  go  away  somewhere.  Come  with  me." 

"My  boy,"  said  the  drunkard,  weakly;  "I  want  to  see 
m'  boy.  He's  here — goes  to  this  college !  Oh,  I  know  it— 


An  Act  of  Courage.  73 

I  found  it  out!  He's  here,  and  he's  'shamed  of  his  ofd 
father — his  drunken  old  father!" 

"You  do  not  want  to  see  him  now,"  came  gently  and 
firmly  from  Frank.  "We'll  find  him  by  and  by.  Come 
away  with  me — won't  you  come  with  me?" 

"Yes,  I'll  do  anything  for  you !    You've  got  a  heart." 

Then  he  tried  to  shake  his  fist  at  the  group  at  the  fence. 

"Mocking  devils !"  he  cried,  hoarsely ;  "here  is  a  man 
worth  more  than  you  all !  There  is  more  man  in  one  of  his 
fingers  than  in  whole  of  you !  You  ain't  fit  to  wipes  shoes 
on  his  feet!  You  push  man  down;  he  lifts  man  up. 
Shame — shame  on  y'  all !" 

"Come !"  urged  Frank,  gently  forcing  the  man  away. 

"Yes,  I'll  go — for  you.  But  I'm  coming  back.  I'm  go- 
ing to  see  my  boy  who  goes  to  this  fine  college,  while  his 
poor  old  father  has  no  place  to  lay  his  head." 

It  was  a  strange  sight  to  see  Frank  Merriwell  assisting 
the  drunken  tramp  across  the  campus  and  away  from  that 
vicinity.  No  one  attempted  to  guy  him,  but  all  stared  at 
Frank  amazed. 

All  ?  No ;  Harry  Rattleton  was  not  amazed,  but  his  face 
was  crimson  with  shame  when  he  thought  how  he  had 
held  back  and  failed  to  give  assistance  to  the  bummer,  but 
Frank  had  not  hesitated  an  instant. 

"He  is  a  thousand  times  the  man  I  am !"  Rattleton  men- 
tally cried. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HOW  FRANK   CONQUERED   MASON. 

"Mason's  on  the  warpath  again !" 

That  was  the  report  that  was  circulated.  It  created  a 
sensation,  although  something  of  the  sort  had  been  ex- 
pected for  some  time. 

Mason  on  the  warpath  again  meant  that  the  big  fresh- 
man was  once  more  the  brutal  bully  who  had  caused  con- 
sternation among  the  students. 

Mason  was  drinking.  In  the  old  days  before  his  illness 
he  had  never  drank  anything  more  than  an  occasional  beer 
or  a  glass  of  ale  now  and  then,  but  now  he  was  drinking 
whiskey. 

It  was  the  universal  opinion  that  Mason  was  drinking 
whiskey  to  fire  up  courage  to  the  point  of  tackling  Frank 
Merriwell  again. 

It  was  seen  that  Merriwell  and  Mason  no  longer  seemed 
on  friendly  terms.  Why  they  had  broken  was  not  known. 
Diamond  and  Rattleton  kept  the  secret. 

Wiggins  bore  the  mark  of  Mason's  knuckles  on  his 
cheek,  but  he  thought  he  was  lucky  to  escape  without  re- 
ceiving something  worse  than  that. 

Jackson's  was  a  place  occasionally  patronized  by  stu- 
dents as  well  as  the  general  public.  In  a  back  room  above 
Jackson's,  "Buster"  Kelley,  a  professional  bruiser,  had 
rooms.  Kelley  was  a  bull-necked  slugger  with  a  record. 
He  picked  up  not  a  little  money  by  teaching  college  men 
fighting  tricks  and  straight  sparring.  Kelley  knew  more 
about  tricks  than  he  did  about  scientific  boxing.  It  was 
said  that  he  could  foul  an  opponent  with  greater  skill  than 
any  living  fighter. 


How  Frank  Conquered  Mason.         75 

Months  before  Kelley  had  been  warned  to  leave  New 
Haven,  and,  for  some  time,  he  had  kept  "shady."  After  a 
time,  however,  he  became  bolder,  and  almost  any  night  he 
could  be  found  loafing  in  Jackson's  barroom. 

It  happened  that  Kelley  was  not  present  the  night  that 
Mason  struck  Wiggins,  but  he  heard  of  it  shortly  after- 
ward, and  he  publicly  declared  he  would  "t'ump  der  mug 
off  n  der  fresh  bloke"  the  next  time  Hock  cut  up  in  Jack- 
son's. 

This  was  soon  put  in  circulation,  and  each  night  a  large 
number  of  fellows  went  to  Jackson's,  hoping  to  see  a  fight 
between  Kelley  and  the  freshman  bully. 

It  was  the  universal  opinion  that  Mason  would  soon 
meet  his  "finish"  when  he  went  up  against  "Buster,"  for 
Kelley  would  spring  some  sort  of  a  trick  on  the  college  lad 
that  would  "do  him  up." 

Mason  kept  away  from  Jackson's  a  while,  and  then,  one 
night,  he  appeared. 

Kelley  was  on  hand  and  itching  for  a  fight. 

Mason  drank  whiskey  by  himself,  and  Kelley  watched 
him.  Word  went  out  that  there  was  "blood  on  the  moon," 
and  college  lads  came  swarming  into  the  place,  hot  to  see 
the  "scrap"  they  felt  certain  was  coming. 

Mason  had  "put  himself  up  against  the  bar,"  and  it  did 
not  take  Kelley  long  to  get  up  beside  him.  Kelley  said 
nothing,  but  he  watched  Mason  in  a  manner  that  was  an 
open  insult. 

At  last  Mason  accused  the  barkeeper  of  changing  his 
whiskey  and  giving  him  a  poorer  brand. 

"Think  I  can't  tell  poor  whiskey  just  because  I've 
pitched  in  a  pint  of  it  ?"  he  growled.  "Well,  I  can !  This 
stuff  is  vile !" 

"It  is  the  same  that  I  have  been  giving  you  all  along," 
declared  the  barkeeper. 

"Haw!"  snorted  Kelley,  unable  to  keep  still  longer. 


76         How  Frank  Conquered  Mason. 

"Dat  duck  don't  know  whiskey  from  benzine!  Shall  I 
t'row  him  out,  Jimmy?" 

He  asked  this  question  of  the  barkeeper,  but  he  thrust 
out  his  square  chin  and  glared  at  Mason  in  the  most  ap- 
proved bulldog  fashion. 

Mason  turned  and  looked  Kelley  over. 

''Throw  me  out — throw  me !"  he  exclaimed.  "You  poor, 
deluded,  yap- faced  accident !  You  couldn't  throw  me  out 
if  my  hands  were  tied  behind  my  back !" 

Kelley  gasped  for  breath.  He  did  not  seem  able  to  be- 
lieve that  he  had  heard  aright. 

"I— I'm  Buster  Kelley!"  he  roared. 

"I  don't  care  if  you  are  Buster  Thunder!"  flung  back 
Mason.  "You  won't  melt  things.  There  are  others  just 
as  warm." 

Kelley  gave  a  howl  and  a  leap,  but  Mason  sprang  side- 
ways at  the  same  time,  and  the  bruiser  did  not  fasten  his 
hands  on  the  freshman,  as  he  had  intended.  Instead,  he 
received  a  sledge-hammer  blow  on  the  ear  that  came  near 
knocking  him  clean  over  the  bar. 

Kelley  was  a  man  who  could  stand  punishment,  and  he 
turned  as  quickly  as  possible  to  get  at  Mason.  He  was 
just  in  time  to  get  a  smash  in  the  mouth  that  sent  him  up 
against  the  bar  once  more. 

The  two  blows  Mason  had  struck  were  terrible  ones, 
and  would  have  knocked  out  an  ordinary  man. 

Kelley  was  not  an  ordinary  man,  and  the  bar  saved  him 
from  measuring  his  length  on  the  floor. 

Although  dazed  by  the  blows,  Kelley  managed  to  duck 
and  avoid  a  third  one. 

But  Hock  Mason  was  aroused  as  he  had  never  been  be- 
fore. He  seemed  a  perfect  fury.  His  eyes  glared  and  his 
teeth  gleamed  beyond  his  back-drawn  lips. 

For  all  that  Kelley  escaped  being  struck  when  Mason 
swung  at  him  the  third  time,  he  could  not  get  away.  Like 


How  Frank  Conquered  Mason.         77 

an  infuriated  beast  the  freshman  followed  the  prize 
tighter. 

Kelley  tried  to  strike  Mason,  and  did  succeed  in  hitting 
him  once,  but,  to  the  bruiser's  astonishment,  that  blow 
simply  seemed  to  make  the  collegian  more  furious. 

The  spectators  held  their  breath.  The  fight  had  started 
so  quickly  and  was  so  savage  that  they  could  do  nothing 
but  keep  still  and  watch. 

Kelley  ducked  again  when  Mason  swung  the  fourth 
time,  and  then  closed  with  the  freshman. 

"You  have  him,  Buster !"  cried  the  barkeeper.  "Give  it 
to  him !  Throw  him  out !" 

Mason  heard  those  words,  and  the  snarl  that  escaped  his 
lips  was  a  sound  that  might  have  issued  from  the  throat 
of  an  animal.  He  broke  Kelley's  hold,  and  swung  him  into 
the  air,  flinging  the  prize  fighter  bodily  over  the  bar. 

Kelley  was  put  out  of  the  fight  by  this,  for  he  was 
stunned  when  he  struck. 

All  that  was  bad  and  savage  in  Mason's  nature  seemed 
aroused.  With  his  teeth  grating  together,  his  eyes  glar- 
ing redly,  and  his  breathing  sounding  hoarsely,  he  caught 
up  a  chair. 

"Put  your  bouncer  on  me,  will  you !"  he  roared.  "Well, 
I'll  clean  this  joint  out  now!" 

At  this  moment  Mason  was  approached  by  a  lad  who 
had  been  passing,  and  was  drawn  into  the  place  by  the 
sounds  of  the  fight. 

It  was  Frank  Merriwell. 

Without  the  least  hesitation,  Merriwell  walked  straight 
up  to  the  freshman,  placed  a  hand  on  Mason's-  arm,  and 
spoke,  his  voice  being  gentle  and  soothing : 

"I  wouldn't  do  it,  old  man.  Put  down  the  chair,  and 
come  with  me." 

Mason  paused,  with  the  chair  poised  in  the  air,  his  eyes 
turned  on  Frank.  For  a  moment  he  glared  at  Merriwell  as 


78         How  Frank  Conquered  Mason. 

if  longing  to  smash  him  over  the  head  with  the  chair,  but 
it  was  plain  a  struggle  was  going  on  within  his  breast. 

The  others  in  the  place  watched  in  silent  suspense,  won- 
dering what  the  result  would  be.  Some  of  them  felt  sure 
that  Mason  would  improve  the  opportunity  to  "do  up"  the 
lad  who  had  been  more  than  a  match  for  him  in  the  first 
struggle  between  them. 

Harry  Rattleton  afterward  declared  that  at  that  mo- 
ment he  would  not  have  given  a  cent  for  Merriwell's 
chance  of  getting  away  with  a  whole  head.  Still,  knowing 
the  danger  that  menaced  his  friend,  he  could  not  lift  a 
hand  to  aid  Frank. 

Merriwell  did  not  shrink  before  the  glare  of  Hock 
Mason's  eyes.  He  stood  there  quietly,  looking  the  former 
bully  straight  in  the  face,  his  hand  still  resting  in  a  re- 
straining manner  on  the  arm  of  the  infuriated  freshman. 

Gradually  the  look  of  fury  left  Hock  Mason's  face, 
which  was  suffused  by  a  blush  of  shame.  He  lowered  the 
chair,  and  then  Frank  spoke  once  more : 

"Come  on,  we  will  leave  this  place.  You  could  clean  it 
out,  but  what  is  the  use — you  don't  want  to  do  it.  Come, 
old  man — come  with  me." 

Not  a  word  did  Mason  speak,  but  he  permitted  Frank 
Merriwell  to  lead  him  out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MORE   MYSTERY. 

The  witnesses  of  this  remarkable  scene  were  for  a  time 
dumb  with  amazement  and  wonder.  They  realized  that 
Frank  Merriwell  had  conquered  again,  but  in  a  manner 
that  made  his  victory  quite  different  from  the  first  one. 
And  the  second  victory  was  the  greater  of  the  two. 

Diamond  and  Rattleton  were  together,  having  come 
there  to  keep  an  eye  on  Mason.  Harry  was  the  first  one 
to  regain  his  power  of  speech.  He  turned  to  Jack,  gasp- 
ing :  "What  do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

Diamond  shook  his  head,  still  looking  dazed. 

"It's  more  than  I  can  understand,"  he  confessed.  "Why, 
Merry  conquered  that  fellow  by  sheer  force  of  will." 

"That's  right!"  exclaimed  Harry;  "and  Merry  can 
make  a  man  of  Mason  in  the  same  way.  You  and  I  are 
fools  to  interfere !  Hereafter,  I  am  going  to  keep  my  nose 
out  of  Frank  Merriwell's  business,  and  I  think  that  is  the 
best  thing  you  can  do." 

To  Harry's  astonishment,  Diamond  did  not  resent  these 
plain  words.  It  seemed  as  if  he  was  too  dazed  by  what  he 
had  seen  to  be  aroused  by  language  that  would  have  in- 
furiated him  at  any  other  time. 

After  a  few  moments  Harry  slipped  out  of  the  barroom. 
He  felt  a  consuming  curiosity  to  know  just  what  Merri- 
well would  do  with  Mason. 

To  Rattleton's  disappointment,  neither  of  them  was  to 
be  seen  in  the  vicinity  of  the  place. 

"Frank  has  taken  him  away,  so  he  would  not  be  pinched 
if  the  police  got  onto  the  scrap,"  Harry  decided. 

He  turned  to  re-enter  Jackson's,  but  paused. 


8o  More  Mystery. 

"No!"  he  muttered,  suddenly  seized  by  disgust  of  the 
place,  "I'll  not  go  back  there.  I've  seen  all  there  is  to  see. 
Buster  Kelley  got  just  what  he  deserved,  and  I  am  glad 
of  it." 

He  walked  away. 

When  he  reached  the  corner  of  the  next  street,  he  saw  at 
a  distance  two  persons  who  were  talking  earnestly.  He  did 
not  notice  them  in  particular  till  he  came  close  to  them,  and 
then  he  distinctly  heard  one  of  them  say : 

"He  is  calling  for  you,  and  it  is  your  duty  to  go  at  once 
and  see  him.  He  is  in  a  bad  way,  and  may  not  pull  through 
the  night." 

"I'll  go,"  said  the  other. 

The  two  were  Frank  Merriwell  and  Hock  Mason. 

Before  Harry  reached  them  they  turned  and  walked 
swiftly  away,  still  talking.  Neither  of  them  had  noticed 
him. 

With  his  eyes  fastened  upon  them,  Harry  walked  on 
and  on.  When  he  awoke  to  realize  what  he  was  doing  he 
had  followed  Mason  and  Merry  into  the  cheapest  and  most 
wretched  part  of  the  city. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  exclaimed,  stopping  suddenly. 
"Where  am  I  going?  I've  been  walking  in  a  trance!" 

Then  he  saw  the  two  lads  pause  before  a  door  that 
opened  directly  upon  the  sidewalk.  That  door  was  the 
entrance  to  a  wretched  building. 

Merriwell  took  a  key  from  his  pocket,  unlocked  the 
door,  and  then  Mason  followed  him  into  the  building,  the 
door  closing  behind  them. 

For  some  time  after  they  disappeared  Harry  stood  there, 
staring  at  the  door  and  wondering  why  they  had  gone  in 
there.  At  last  he  turned  away,  muttering : 

"It's  plain  to  me  that  I  am  not  onto  the  whole  of  Frank 
Merriwell's  secret.  There  are  still  some  things  about  him 
that  I  do  not  know," 


More  Mystery.  81 

All  the  way  back  to  South  Middle  Harry  was  thinking 
over  what  had  happened  that  night.  He  thought  of  it  in 
his  room,  thought  of  it  after  going  to  bed,  and  dreamed  of 
it  after  falling  asleep. 

The  story  of  the  manner  in  which  Frank  had  handled 
Mason  in  Jackson's  saloon  was  circulated  without  delay, 
and  it  seemed  that  every  man  in  college  knew  it  before 
noon  of  the  following  day.  It  was  the  general  opinion  that 
Merriwell  had  conquered  the  freshman  bully  through  fear ; 
but  a  few  fellows  did  not  think  so,  contending  that  it  was 
by  a  superior  force  of  will  that  Mason  had  been  controlled. 

Diamond  was  silent.  To  himself  he  confessed  that 
there  was  more  in  it  than  he  could  understand.  At  noon 
the  sun  was  shining  brightly,  and  the  campus  looked 
rather  lively  for  that  season. 

Just  when  the  largest  number  of  students  had  gathered 
there  in  the  sunshine,  Frank  Merriwell  and  Hock  Mason 
appeared  and  walked  across  the  campus  together.  They 
were  watched  by  more  than  a  hundred  eyes,  but  they  gave 
little  attention  to  anybody,  talking  together  in  low,  earnest 
tones. 

Diamond  saw  them. 

"That  settles  it !"  he  muttered.  "Merry  is  done  for  now. 
I  throw  up  the  sponge." 

But  Jack  could  not  entirely  give  Frank  up.  His  curios- 
ity was  aroused,  but  it  was  aroused  still  more  when  he  saw 
Mason  and  Merriwell  leave  the  college  together  every 
evening  at  a  certain  hour. 

It  was  not  long  before,  one  evening,  Diamond  sought 
Rattleton  in  the  latter's  room. 

"Look  here,  Rattles,  what  do  you  think  ?"  he  cried. 

"Dunno,"  grunted  Harry,  wondering  what  Diamond 
was  driving  at. 

"You  know  Merriwell  and  Mason  are  chumming 
again  ?" 


82  More  Mystery. 

"Sure." 

"Do  you  know  they  go  somewhere  together  every  even- 
ing?"  ' 

"Well,  I  have  seen  them." 

"Know  where  they  go?" 

"Nit." 

"I  do." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"Followed  them.  Curiosity  was  aroused.  Couldn't  help 
it.  Glad  I  did.  Look  here,  old  man,  Mason  is  leading 
Merriwell  into  something  crooked.  This  talk  about  Merry 
controlling  the  freshman  is  all  rot.  It's  Mason  who  is  the 
boss." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?" 

"What  I  saw.  I  followed  them  down  into  the  meanest 
part  of  the  city,  and  I  saw  them  stop  before  the  door  of  a 
wretched  building.  Mason  took  out  a  key  and  unlocked 
the  door.  Then  they  both  went  in,  and  the  door  was  locked 
behind  them.  What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"I  knew  about  that  all  the  time." 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"Think  they  have  a  secret.  Think  it  is  none  of  our  busi- 
ness. Think  we  had  better  keep  our  noses  out  and  let  them 
alone." 

"Eh?  You  don't  believe  in  doing  anything  to  save 
Merry?" 

"Don't  you  worry  so  much  about  Frank  Merriwell," 
advised  Rattleton.  "He  can  take  care  of  himself,  and  he 
will  not  thank  anybody  for  meddling  with  his  business. 
I  am  going  to  let  him  alone  in  the  future,  and  I  advise  you 
to  do  the  same.  That  is  all." 

"I  don't  want  your  advice !"  exclaimed  Jack,  springing 
up.  "I  don't  thank  you  for  it !  You  may  do  as  you  like, 
and  I  will  do  as  I  like.  Good-evening." 

Then  he  left  the  room  and  slammed  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  OPCN   DOOR. 

It  was  Saturday  afternoon.  A  dozen  jolly  students 
were  on  their  way  to  witness  a  match  game  of  billiards  be- 
tween two  professionals  in  one  of  New  Haven's  popular 
sporting  resorts.  They  joked,  and  laughed,  and  sang. 

A  wretched  tramp  staggered  around  a  corner  and  ran 
into  one  of  the  party.  The  student  gave  the  man  a  push 
that  sent  him  tottering  to  the  ground. 

"Get  out,  you  miserable  old  bum!"  cried  the  angry 
student. 

The  tramp  slowly  arose  to  his  feet.  His  face  was  ghastly 
pale,  and  there  was  a  dead  look  in  his  eyes.  With  a 
mighty  effort,  he  stood  up  before  them,  weakly  saying: 
"Where  is  my  boy — my  dear  boy  ?  I  want  to  see  him  for 
the  last  time.  He's  one  of  you  student  fellers.  I  must  see 
him !  I'm  dying !" 

"Dying  for  a  drink,"  said  one  of  the  party,  coarsely. 
"You  are  the  old  vag  who  made  the  scene  on  the  campus. 
Where's  a  cop  ?  You  should  be  put  away  for  the  winter." 

"I'll  soon  be  put  away  for  eternity,"  said  the  wretched 
man,  gasping  for  breath.  "I  want  to  see  my  boy — my 
dear  boy ! — once  more.  Have  pity  on  me !" 

He  stood  in  their  way ;  they  rudely  pushed  him  aside. 

A  faint  cry  of  anger  came  from  the  tramp,  and,  with  a 
savageness  that  was  astonishing  in  one  who  appeared  so 
helpless,  he  struck  one  of  the  students  in  the  face,  knocking 
the  fellow  down. 

Then  the  man  turned  and  ran  with  astonishing  speed. 

For  a  moment  the  party  was  dazed  by  what  had  hap- 


84  The  Open  Door. 

pened,  and  then  the  one  that  had  been  struck  got  upon  his 
feet,  swearing  savagely. 

"After  him,  fellows !"  he  cried.  "I'm  going  to  thump 
his  face  off !" 

They  started  in  pursuit  of  the  running  man.  He  looked 
back  and  saw  them  coming,  and  fear  seemed  to  give  him 
wings.  He  amazed  them  by  his  speed. 

"Pretty  hot  pace  for  a  dying  man,"  said  one  of  the 
pursuers. 

Down  into  a  wretched  part  of  the  town  they  followed 
him.  They  saw  him  fling  open  the  door  of  a  poor  building 
and  rush  in. 

"We've  got  him  now!"  cried  one.  "We'll  find  him  in 
there!" 

But  suddenly  out  through  the  doorway  stepped  a  person 
who  closed  it  behind  him.  It  was  Frank  Merriwell ! 

"Hold  up,  fellows !"  rang  out  Merriwell's  clear  voice. 
"You  can't  go  in  here !" 

"Stand  aside,  Merriwell!"  shouted  one  of  them.  "We 
want  that  old  bum !" 

"No !"  flung  back  Frank.  "You  can't  touch  him,  fel- 
lows !  He  is  a  poor  devil  driven  mad  by  rum." 

"He  struck  Collins." 

"He  is  not  responsible  for  his  acts.  Have  some  sym- 
pathy for  a  fellow-being  who  was  once  a  good  man,  hon- 
ored, respected,  loved  by  his  family,  and  trusted  by  all 
who  knew  him.  Drink  has  brought  him  where  he  is.  I  am 
sure  you  would  not  touch  him  if  you  were  to  go  in  and 
find  him  cowering  before  you.  You  are  a  dozen,  all 
young,  strong  and  healthy;  he  is  one,  old,  weak  and 
wretched." 

Harry  Rattleton  was  with  the  crowd.  He  came  forward 
and  took  his  place  at  Frank's  side. 

"Merry  is  right,  fellows,"  he  said.  "We  couldn't  touch 
the  old  vag  if  we  went  in." 


The  Open  Door.  85 

The  others  agreed,  and  soon  they  turned  away,  al- 
though they  wondered  that  Merriwell  had  appeared  at 
such  a  place  and  such  a  time  to  defend  the  man  he  had 
led  off  the  campus. 

Frank  held  Rattleton  back. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "you  are  my  friend,  and  you  shall 
know  all  the  secret.  Mason  will  not  care." 

They  opened  the  door  and  entered.  In  a  miserable  room 
they  found  the  old  bummer  stretched  face  downward  on 
the  floor.  When  they  lifted  the  man  to  a  hard  cot,  he 
opened  his  eyes,  recognized  Frank,  and  painfully  gasped: 

"My  boy — bring  him!    Dying!" 

Frank  felt  the  man's  pulse,  and  then  turned  swiftly  to 
Rattleton. 

"Go  for  Mason !"  he  commanded.  "Find  him  and  bring 
him  here.  On  your  way,  send  a  doctor,  and  say  it  is  a 
case  of  life  or  death." 

Harry  stopped  to  ask  no  questions,  but  departed  in  a 
hurry. 

When  Rattleton  returned  with  Hock  Mason,  Frank  was 
fanning  the  man,  who  lay  gasping  on  the  cot.  The  doctor 
had  not  yet  arrived. 

Mason  fell  on  his  knees  beside  the  cot,  crying  brokenly : 

"My  father — my  poor  father !" 

"My  boy — thank  God !"  fluttered  the  faint  voice  of  the 
man.  "I  tried  to  live  long  enough  to  see  you  again.  Now 
— now  I  am  willing  to  go !" 

"But  you  shall  not  die !  You  shall  live  and  take  the  cure 
— you  shall  be  a  man  once  more." 

"No  use — too  late !  My  boy,  don't  drink !  I  broke  your 
mother's  heart,  ruined  our  home,  became  a  wandering 
wretch  on  the  face  of  God's  earth !  My  boy,  don't — don't 
drink !" 

"Father,  I  will  not — I  give  you  my  pledge  here  and 
now,  that  never  again  shall  a  drop  of  liquor  pass  my  lips  !" 


86  The  Open  Door. 

"Keep  it,  boy — keep  it !  Always  remember  your  pledge 
to  your  dying  father!  It  will  soon  be  over.  Bury  me 
quietly ;  don't  disgrace  yourself  by  letting  the  world  know. 
Promise  you  will  not." 

"Father " 

"Promise — promise !" 

"Anything,  father!" 

"Now  I  shall  go  easier." 

He  turned  his  eyes  on  Frank  Merriwell,  and  a  faint 
smile  came  to  the  face  of  that  wretched  bummer. 

"He  was  the  first  to  show  me  the  way.  Oh,  he  is  a 
noble  fellow!  He  is  a  true  Christian,  for  he  practices 
more  than  he  preaches.  It  was  his  voice  that  stirred  my 
rum-deadened  heart  for  the  first  time  in  years.  My  boy — 
my  boy!  all  I  could  ask  is  that  you  might  be  like  him! 
Take  him  for  an  example,  my  boy.  You  will — never — go 
— wrong." 

The  last  words  cost  a  mighty  effort.  Then  the  old  man 
lifted  himself  a  bit,  seemed  to  look  far  beyond  the  bare 
walls  of  the  wretched  room,  stretched  out  his  hand,  and 
whispered : 

"The  door— the  door  Is  open!" 

He  fell  back  stiffly. 

The  door  had  closed — forever! 

For  a  long  while  after  this  there  was  silence  in  the 
room.  Then  Frank  laid  his  hand  on  Hock  Mason's 
shoulder. 

"Shall  I  make  all  arrangements  for  the  funeral?"  he 
said.  "I  presume  you  want  it  to  be  a  quiet  affair?" 

"Yes." 

So  Frank  made  the  arrangements,  and  only  a  handful 
of  people  attended. 

It  was  fully  ten  days  before  Mason  returned  to  the  col- 
lege, he  having  obtained  leave  of  absence  through  Frank's 
efforts. 


The  Open  Door.  87 

When  he  returned  he  seemed  so  changed  that  all  the 
boys  wondered.  Nobody,  not  even  Jack  Diamond,  dared  to 
say  anything,  either  to  Mason  or  to  Frank. 

The  days  went  on,  and  Frank  continued  his  studies. 

It  looked  as  if  all  was  running  smoothly  at  last,  but  in 
the  midst  of  the  college  work  Bruce  Browning  brought 
news  to  Frank  that  disturbed  our  hero  more  than  mere 
words  can  telL 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

BROWNING  AND   MERRIWELE. 

"Say,  Merry." 

Frank  looked  up  from  his  book. 

"What  is  it,  Browning?" 

The  big  fellow  lazily  turned  on  the  couch'. 

"Nearly  everybody  is  more  or  less  of  a  fool,"  he  said; 
"but  some  fellows  are  bigger  fools  than  others." 

"What  are  you  driving  at?"  asked  Frank,  puzzled. 

"I  know  two  of  the  biggest  fools  in  college,"  declared 
Bruce,  with  a  certain  languid  emphasis. 

"Think  it?     Name  them." 

"Jack  Diamond." 

"Eh?     Who's  the  other?" 

"Harry  Rattleton." 

"What  are  you  driving  at?"  Merriwell  again  asked. 
"What's  the  matter  with  Diamond  and  Rattleton  ?" 

"They  are  chumps.    Both  going  it  again." 

"Going  it?    How?" 

"Poker." 

That  aroused  Frank. 

"You  don't  mean  they  are  playing  the  game?"  he  asked, 
flinging  the  book  aside. 

"That's  what,"  affirmed  Browning;  "and  they're  being 
swindled  after  the  same  old  style." 

"Well,  I  am  not  surprised  that  you  should  call  them 
fools,"  declared  Frank,  rising  to  his  feet.  "I  thought  they 
had  learned  their  lesson." 

"Hold  on,"  said  the  big  fellow,  lighting  a  cigarette  with 
a  pocket-lighter,  which  he  carried  to  save  him  the  labor  of 
scratching  matches.  "Haven't  told  you  everything  yet.'* 


Browning  and  Merriwell/  89 

"What  else  have  you  to  tell?" 

"Can't  guess  the  gang  they're  playing  with?" 

"I  don't  know.    There  are  a  dozen  poker  crowds." 

"Well,  they  are  not  playing  with  the  swell  crowd." 

"I  presume  not.     The  game  would  be  too  steep  for 

them." 

"You  know  where  they  used  to  play  ?" 

"Jackson's  joint?" 

"Sure." 

"But  neither  Diamond  nor  Rattleton  would  go  there  to 

play  poker  now.    The  decent  fellows  have  quit  that  place. 

It's  too  tough." 

"Diamond  and  Rattleton  have  been  pulled  into  the  gang 

that  plays  at  Jackson's.     They  are  playing  with  Harris 

and  the  others." 

"Harris?"  cried  Frank,  astonished.    "Why,  they  know 

he  is  crooked!    They  know  he  stood  in  with  that  fellow 

Harlow  to  beat  his  friends,  the  meanest  thing  any  man 

can  do!     You  must  be  mistaken,  Bruce!     Neither  Jack 

nor  Harry  would  sit  into  a  game  with  that  fellow." 

"But  they  are  playing  with  him,  just  as  hard.    He  has 

hypnotized  them — or  something." 

"How  do  you  know  this?" 

"Fleming  told  me.  You  know  he  is  friendly  with 
Thornton,  and  Thornton  plays  with  that  crowd.  Flerr. 
was  asked  to  come  in.  He  wanted  to  know  who  played 
and  Tom  told  him." 

Frank  seemed  relieved. 

"If  the  story  came  through  Tom  Thornton  I  sfiall  not 
put  much  stock  in  it,"  he  said.  "Tom  is  rather  irresponsi- 
ble. He  would  like  to  be  square  and  go  with  a  decent 
crowd,  but  he  is  easily  influenced,  and  so  those  cheap  fel- 
lows lead  him  off.  I  know  he  cannot  be  depended  on  to 
tell  the  truth  at  all  times.  You  remember  he  was  in  with 


90  Browning  and  Merriwell. 

Hartwick  and  my  enemies  last  year,  but  redeemed  himself 
by  quitting  them  and  putting  me  on  to  their  plots." 

"I  think  you  are  rather  hard  on  Thornton,  Merry,"  said 
Bruce. 

Frank  whistled  his  astonishment,  and  then  broke  into  a 
merry  laugh. 

"Well,  I  like  that !"  he  cried.  "Everybody  has  been  tell- 
ing me  I  was  too  soft  with  fellows  who  have  tried  to  injure 
me,  and  now  you  say  I  am  too  hard  on  one  of  them  who 
was  in  the  gang  once.  By  Jove !  that  is  a  relief !  Really, 
I  like  it !  Do  it  again,  old  man !" 

Then  Frank  laughed  again,  and  Browning  brightened 
perceptibly. 

"Huah!"  grunted  the  big  fellow,  expelling  a  mouthful 
of  smoke  with  the  sound.  "That's  a  relief." 

"What's  a  relief?" 

"To  hear  you  laugh  like  that.  You've  been  glum  enough 
lately;  ain't  seemed  like  yourself  at  all.  What's  been  the 
matter  with  you,  Merry?" 

"Oh,  nothing,"  answered  Frank,  evasively. 

Browning  knew  nothing  of  the  secret  held  by  Merriwell, 
Mason  and  Rattleton.  He  knew  nothing  of  Frank's  ef- 
forts to  uplift  some  of  the  poor  wretches  who  came  to  the 
services  in  a  certain  little  mission  in  the  poorest  quarter  of 
the  city. 

The  work  Frank  had  been  trying  to  do,  the  misery  and 
degradation  he  had  seen,  and  the  final  death  of  the  drunken 
parent  had  served  to  sober  the  light-hearted  lad  and  make 
him  thoughtful  and  serious. 

Another  thing  happened  that  had  caused  Frank  to  seem 
more  serious  than  usual  was  the  fact  that  he  was  studying 
hard  through  the  winter  months  that  he  might  pass 
"exams."  with  flying  colors,  and  have  all  the  better  oppor- 
tunity to  play  ball  and  take  an  interest  in  other  sports 
when  spring  came. 


Browning  and  Merriwell.  91 

Merriwell  was  a  fellow  who  carefully  laid  his  plans  for 
the  future,  and  for  that  reason  when  the  time  came  around 
for  him  to  take  part  in  sports  and  pastimes,  if  he  went  into 
them  at  all,  he  was  able  to  do  so  in  earnest.  He  had  the 
time  to  spend,  for  he  had  "boned"  hard  to  acquire  time. 

Browning  knew  Frank  was  not  giving  him  a  direct  an- 
swer, but  he  also  knew  better  than  to  be  too  inquisitive,  so 
he  did  not  put  any  more  questions  in  that  line. 

"All  right,"  he  grunted,  lighting  a  fresh  cigarette  from 
the  butt  of  the  old  one.  "Maybe  nothing  was  the  matter 
with  you,  but  you  have  been  acting  queer.  Still,  you  did 
ship  that  fellow  Mason  before  all  the  fellows  were  queered 
on  you." 

"That's  where  you're  wrong,  old  man,"  returned  Frank. 
"Mason  shipped  me." 

"Oh,  come  off !  He  was  hanging  to  you,  hoping  to  make 
himself  popular  that  way." 

"You  misjudge  him,  Browning.  That  was  not  his  ob- 
ject at  all.  He  simply  accepted  the  friendship  I  offered 
him. 

"When  he  found  it  was  injuring  me  because  he  came 
here  to  see  me  in  my  room,  he  quit  coming.  That's 
straight." 

"Huah!"  exploded  Bruce.  "You  seem  to  be  the  only 
fellow  who  has  a  real  good  opinion  of  him." 

"I  think  the  time  will  come  when  I'll  not  be  the  only 
one." 

"Well,  he  has  been  going  pretty  straight  lately.  Seems 
awfully  sober,  and  never  says  anything  to  anybody." 

Frank  thought  that  Mason  had  good  cause  to  seem 
sober,  but  he  did  not  say  so. 

Browning  finished  the  cigarette,  and  then,  between 
yawns  and  groans,  got  upon  his  feet. 

"Got  to  do  some  grinding  myself,"  he  declared.    "Can't 


92  Browning  and  Merriwell. 

stand  it  to  be  dropped  again,  and  I'll  have  to  dig  for 
exams.,  or  something  will  drop." 

Prank  laughed  again. 

"I  should  like  to  see  you  digging !"  he  exclaimed.  "It 
would  be  an  awe-inspiring  spectacle.  The  only  time  for 
a  year  that  I  have  seen  you  do  anything  was  during  our 
vacation  trip.  Then  you  were  compelled  to  push  a  bicycle, 
walk  or  flunk." 

"And  I  felt  like  flunking  more  times  than  I  can  remem- 
ber, but  I'd  said  I'd  do  it  or  bu'st,  and  so  I  stuck  to  it." 

After  chatting  a  few  moments  longer,  the  big  student 
familiarly  known  as  "the  laziest  man  on  earth,"  struggled 
to  his  feet  and  wearily  dragged  himself  out  of  the  room, 
leaving  Frank  to  his  thoughts. 

When  Browning  had  departed,  Merry  suddenly  remem- 
bered that  in  the  midst  of  their  conversation  about  Dia- 
mond and  Rattleton  they  had  branched  off  onto  something 
else,  and  had  not  afterward  returned  to  the  original 
channel. 

That  was  like  Browning,  but  to  Frank  it  seemed 
strangely  forgetful  in  himself. 

"Perhaps  I  am  studying  too  hard  and  keeping  myself 
too  close  in  my  room,"  he  said,  as  he  walked  up  and  down. 
"Sometimes  I  feel  like  flying.  I  want  to  shout,  tear  some- 
thing, smash  something;  but  I  nail  myself  right  down  to 
my  studies  and  bone  till  I  am  so  tired  I  can  do  nothing  but 
crawl  into  bed.  I  am  killing  my  superfluous  energy,  in- 
stead of  working  it  off.  That  hurts.  If  a  fellow  had 
brought  me  a  piece  of  news  three  months  ago  same  as 
Browning  did  just  now  I  should  not  have  forgotten  it  be- 
fore we  were  through  talking  it  over." 

He  continued  to  pace  the  room  for  some  time,  thinking 
this  matter  over.  He  realized  that  he  was  not  like  himself, 
and  he  resolved  to  get  back  into  normal  condition. 

Then  his  thoughts  ran  to  what  Browning  had  told  him 


Browning  and  Merriwell.  93 

of  Diamond  and  Rattleton.  He  remembered  that  neither 
Jack  nor  Harry  had  called  on  him  often  of  late. 

To  Frank  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  they  could  be 
foolish  enough  to  again  play  poker  with  Sport  Harris,  after 
knowing  that  the  fellow  had  at  one  time  been  implicated  in 
a  plot  to  rob  his  friends  with  the  assistance  of  a  card  sharp. 

But  for  the  fact  that  Harris  had  begged  in  a  pitiful  man- 
ner, saying  it  would  kill  his  mother  if  he  had  to  leave 
college,  it  is  certain  he  would  have  been  driven  out  of 
Yale. 

But  Frank  felt  that  it  would  be  a  fearful  thing  to  ruin 
a  young  man  in  such  a  manner,  and  he  had  pledged  all  his 
friends  to  secrecy  concerning  the  affair,  thus  protecting 
Harris. 

Instead  of  feeling  grateful  for  this,  however,  Harris 
had  not  forgotten  that  the  exposure  of  the  crooked  work 
was  made  by  Merriwell,  and,  in  his  heart,  he  hated  Frank 
all  the  more.  He  had  made  a  few  feeble  attempts  to  in- 
jure Merriwell,  but  each  one  had  been  a  failure,  and,  at 
last,  it  seemed  that  he  had  decided  the  best  thing  was  to 
drop  it. 

Despite  the  fact  that  Frank  had  pledged  all  the  fellows 
to  secrecy,  something  of  the  truth  concerning  the  affair 
had  dribbled  out,  as  we  know,  and  Harris  was  occasionally 
guyed  or  sneered  at  about  the  affair.  Every  gibe  or  sneer 
made  him  feel  all  the  more  bitter  toward  Merriwell  deep 
down  in  his  heart. 

Harris  had  a  particular  friend  in  Walter  Gordan,  al- 
though at  times  he  and  Gordan  had  very  little  to  do  with 
each  other  publicly.  Occasionally  it  would  seem  that 
they  scarcely  knew  each  other,  so  formal  were  they  when 
they  met,  but  all  the  while  there  was  a  perfect  understand- 
ing between  them,  and  they  were  on  the  best  of  terms. 

Gordan  was  a  two-faced  fellow.  He  was  not  frank 
enough  to  come  out  and  openly  declare  his  dislike  for  Mer- 


94  Browning  and  Merriwell. 

riwell.  Instead  of  that,  to  a  certain  extent,  he  kept  his 
rancor  corked  up  in  his  heart,  where  it  gnawed  and 
gnawed,  pretended  to  be  friendly  toward  the  lad  he  hated, 
and  lost  no  opportunity  to  work  him  an  injury  if  it  could 
be  done  secretly. 

Harris  was  the  only  man  who  came  anywhere  near 
knowing  the  full  extent  of  Gordan's  bitterness  toward 
Merriwell,  for  Harris  was  the  only  man  who  received  his 
confidence. 

Of  late  Gordan  and  Harris  had  seemed  more  distant 
than  ever  toward  each  other.  They  seldom  spoke  or  no- 
ticed each  other,  but  whenever  a  poker  game  was  going  on 
at  Jackson's  and  Harris  was  in  the  game,  Gordan  was 
somewhere  around.  Occasionally  he  played,  but  it  was 
far  oftener  that  he  sat  around  and  looked  on,  pretending 
to  be  "broke." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

GOOD   ADVICE.      % 

While  Merriwell  was  thinking  of  Diamond  and  Rattle- 
ton,  and  asking  himself  why  they  had  not  visited  him 
oftener,  the  door  suddenly  opened  and  the  Virginian 
strode  into  the  room. 

"Hello,  Jack,  old  fellow !"  called  Frank,  cheerfully.  '1 
was  thinking  of  you  this  very  minute." 

"Hello,"  said  Jack,  shortly.  Then  he  dropped  on  a 
chair  and  stared  moodily  at  the  floor. 

Frank  instantly  saw  that  Diamond  was  not  feeling  as 
well  as  he  might. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  fellow?"  he  asked. 

"Nothing,"  was  the  short  answer. 

Still  Jack  stared  at  the  floor. 

"He  has  been  getting  it  in  the  neck,"  thought  Frank. 
"That's  what's  the  matter." 

Merriwell  attempted  to  talk  of  various  things,  but  Dia- 
mond did  not  seem  inclined  to  talk.  Suddenly  he  looked 
up,  saying: 

"Lend  me  twenty  dollars,  Merriwell?" 

Frank  whistled. 

"Why,  of  course "  he  began,  slowly. 

Jack  jumped  up,  his  face  flushing. 

"Needn't  if  you  don't  want  to !"  he  exclaimed.  "There 
are  others !" 

"Oh,  say!"  called  Frank.  "What's  the  matter  with 
you  ?  Sit  down,  Jack  Diamond !  Did  you  ever  know  me 
to  refuse  to  grant  a  favor  to  a  friend  who  was  a  white 
man?" 

"No,  but " 


96  Good  Advice. 

Jack  hesitated. 

"But  what?" 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  but  you  were  going  to  question  me, 
and  I  don't  care  to  be  questioned." 

"That  is  putting  it  on  pretty  thick,  Jack!"  protested 
Frank.  "When  one  friend  lends  money  to  another,  does 
he  ask  the  other  what  he  means  to  do  with  it — if  he  is  a 
gentleman  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  but " 


"Then  don't  you  think- 


"I'll  apologize!"  cried  Jack.  "Hadn't  a  right  to  say 
such  a  thing — to  you." 

"Here,  Jack — here  is  the  money." 

Frank  counted  out  twenty  dollars,  which  Diamond  ac- 
cepted with  mingled  eagerness  and  reluctance  that  Frank 
did  not  fail  to  note. 

"Now,"  said  Merriwell,  "there  was  no  reason  why  I 
should  ask  you  what  you  meant  to  do  with  that  money,  for 
I  know.  If  we  were  not  the  very  best  of  friends,  I  would 
not  say  what  I  am  going  to  say  now.  I  knew  when  you 
came  into  this  room  that  you  had  lost  heavily  playing 
poker." 

Jack  stared  at  Frank  in  astonishment. 

"Are  you  a  wizard?"  he  gasped,  after  some  moments. 
"Did  you  read  my  mind  ?" 

"Was  I  right?" 

"Yes,  but  how " 

"Never  mind  how.  I  am  sorry  you  are  in  the  game 
again,  but  I  am  not  going  to  preach." 

"That's  a  relief." 

"You  are  playing  at  Jackson's?" 

"Sometimes,"  confessed  Diamond,  blushing. 

"Harris  is  in  the  game?" 

"Yes." 


Good  Advice.  97 

'That  is  what  surprises  me.  Why  should  you  play  witH 
him?  You  know  he  is  crooked,  and " 

"We  can  do  him  all  right.  He  doesn't  know  how  to 
put  up  the  cards,  or  do  anything  else  that  he  can't  be  de- 
tected in.  It  was  Harlow  who  did  all  the  tricks.  Nobody 
is  afraid  of  Harris.  That  fellow  is  a  mark." 

"Has  he  proved  so  lately?" 

"Well,  he  has  done  pretty  well,  but  it  has  been  a  case 
of  luck — nothing  more.  Rattleton  and  I  have  watched 
him  like  hawks,  and  he  hasn't  had  a  chance  to  do  anything 
out  of  the  way." 

"You  think  so,  but  that  fellow  may  be  sharper  than  you 
imagine." 

"I  tell  you  he  is  a  bungler.  We'll  get  at  him  and  sink 
the  knife  deep  pretty  soon.  That's  what  we  want  to  do. 
Luck  can't  run  his  way  always,  and  we  are  laying  for 
him." 

"I  think  you  are  making  a  mistake,"  said  Frank;  "but, 
of  course,  I  don't  know.  I  think  I'll  drop  in  sometime, 
and " 

"Don't  do  it,  Merry!  It's  no  place  for  you.  Keep 
away !" 

"Well,"  laughed  Frank,  "that  sounds  well  from  your 
lips!  If  the  place  is  good  enough  for  you,  it  should  be 
good  enough  for  me." 

Diamond's  face  grew  very  red.  He  tried  to  explain 
that  that  was  not  what  he  meant,  but  made  a  mess  of  it. 
He  was  thinking  all  the  time  that  Merriwell  had,  once  on 
a  time,  confessed  that  card  playing  was  his  weakness,  but 
he  did  not  wish  to  say  that  he  feared  Frank  would  yield  to 
that  weakness.  He  could  not  find  words  to  make  his 
meaning  plain  without  making  it  altogether  too  plain. 

"It's  all  right,"  smiled  Frank.  "Go  ahead,  old  fellow, 
and  I  hope  my  double  sawbuck  will  give  you  luck." 

So  Diamond  departed.    When  he  was  gone  Frank  sat' 


98  Good  Advice. 

down  and  tried  to  study  again,  but  his  mind  would  wander, 
and  he  soon  found  it  was  useless. 

"Can't  do  it  to-night,"  he  declared  aloud,  as  he  flung  the 
book  aside.  "My  mind  is  running  to  jackpots,  flushes, 
full  hands,  fours  and  all  that  stuff.  Great  Christopher! 
how  I  would  like  to  play  a  game  of  poker !  Haven't  played 
for  a  thousand  years — more  or  less!  If  poker  was  any- 
thing but  poker,  I'd  get  into  a  game  this  night ;  but  I  know; 
my  weakest  spot,  and  I  am  not  going  to  play.  All  the 
same,  I  am  going  to  drop  down  to  Jackson's  and  see  if 
Diamond  and  Rattleton  are  getting  a  fair  show.  I  hate 
to  think  that  they  are  being  skinned  by  Sport  Harris  and 
his  pals.  It's  ten  to  one  they  go  down  there  and  ball-up  till 
they  are  in  no  condition  to  play  a  steady  game.  Then  Har- 
ris works  them  easy.  He  has  a  cinch  with  them.  He 
plays  horse  with  them.  They  do  not  trot  in  his  class. 
Frankie,  it's  your  turn  to  look  after  Mr.  Harris  a  little." 

Merry  went  to  the  wardrobe  and  brought  out  his  over- 
coat, but  suddenly  changed  his  mind  and  returned  it  to  its 
hook. 

"I  won't  take  it,  for  it  might  bother  me.  If  I  drop  in  on 
the  gang  and  pull  off  my  overcoat,  it  will  arouse  suspicion. 
If  I  drop  in  on  them  and  keep  my  eyes  open,  it  may  hap- 
pen that  an  overcoat  would  be  an  incumbrance." 

He  pulled  off  his  jacket  and  drew  on  a  heavy  coat  in  its 
place.  This  he  buttoned  tightly  around  him,  drew  on  his 
gloves,  took  his  stick,  and  left  the  room. 

On  his  way  to  Jackson's,  Frank's  mind  was  full  of 
many  schemes.  A  fancy  came  to  him  that  made  him  laugh 
outright. 

'Til  do  it!"  he  exclaimed. 

No  one  had  ever  seen  Merriwell  take  a  drink  of  liquor, 
but  when  he  entered  Jackson's  barroom  he  seemed  to  be 
pretty  full. 


Good  Advice.  99 

"Everybody  have  something  with  me,"  he  called.  "Ball- 
up,  gentlemen,  ball-up!" 

There  were  but  four  persons  besides  the  two  barkeepers 
in  the  place.  Two  of  those  were  freshmen,  but  they 
knew  Merriwell,  and  stared  at  him  in  astonishment. 

The  men  behind  the  bar  knew  him  also,  and  they  were 
surprised,  for  never  had  he  been  known  to  take  anything 
stronger  than  ginger  ale  at  that  bar. 

"What  will  you  have?"  one  of  them  asked. 

"Whiskey,"  replied  Frank ;  "whiskey,  old  chap !  Some- 
thing to  warm  me  up.  It's  cold  enough  to  take  the  plating 
off  a  door  knob  this  evening,  and  whiskey  is  the  only 
thing  that  will  set  a  fellow's  blood  moving." 

Then  he  again  asked  the  others  what  they  would  have. 

"Blamed  if  he  isn't  steaming!"  said  one  of  the  fresh- 
men to  the  other. 

"That's  what,"  nodded  his  companion.  "When  these 
temperance  chaps  do  start,  they  are  terrors." 

Then  they  got  up  against  the  bar  and  said  it  would  do 
them  proud  to  drink  whiskey  with  Mr.  Merriwell — Mr. 
Merriwell,  the  famous  full-back,  the  great  baseball  pitcher, 
the  all-around  athlete.  They  were  honored  by  an  invitation 
from  Mr.  Merriwell — Mr.  Merriwell,  the  dead-game  sport, 
the  j oiliest  fellow  in  college,  the  whitest  man  alive.  Would 
they  drink  with  him !  Well,  would  they  ?  Rather ! 

Merry  was  jolly  enough  for  anything.  Almost  any  one 
would  have  been  willing  to  swear  he  had  been  "looking  on 
the  wine  when  it  was  red."  His  tongue  seemed  a  trifle 
thick,  but  he  told  a  funny  story  as  no  one  but  he  himself 
could  tell  it.  He  told  it  with  assumed  gravity  that  seemed 
of  the  half-intoxicated  order.  • 

That  story  was  funny.  The  barkeepers  roared  over  it. 
Afterward  they  wondered  what  they  had  laughed  at,  for 
when  they  tried  to  tell  it  themselves  it  seemed  flat  and 
tame.  They  did  not  realize  it  was  all  in  the  telling. 


ioo  Good  Advice. 

The  freshmen  came  near  bursting  blood  vessels.  They 
shouted  with  laughter.  One  of  them  got  on  the  right  side 
of  Frank,  and  the  other  got  on  the  left.  It  was  the  first 
time  they  had  been  given  an  opportunity  to  get  so  near 
the  famous  athlete.  They  improved  it,  they  brushed  el- 
bows with  him,  one  of  them  ventured  to  place  a  hand 
familiarly  on  Frank's  arm. 

The  drinks  were  before  them.  Frank  lifted  his  glass, 
the  others  lifted  theirs.  Then  they  paused,  and  Merry 
gave  a  toast.  That  was  funny,  too,  and  they  all  laughed 
again.  Then  they  lifted  their  glasses  to  drink. 

At  that  moment  Merry  did  a  very  clever  piece  of  leger- 
demain. Not  a  drop  of  whiskey  touched  his  lips,  al- 
though it  seemed  that  he  tossed  it  off  at  a  gulp.  When  the 
others  lowered  their  glasses,  Merry  was  drinking  the  water 
chaser,  and  the  whiskey  was  in  the  cuspidor  that  stood 
under  the  rail  of  the  bar. 

Then  Frank  seemed  to  grow  jollier  than  ever.  He  told 
other  stories  that  made  those  who  heard  them  laugh.  He 
sang  a  song  and  followed  it  with  some  artistic  whistling. 

One  of  the  freshmen  ordered  drinks.  Frank  was  asked 
what  he  would  have. 

"Tom  gin,"  he  said.  "Going  to  shift.  Been  drinking1 
whiskey  for  the  last  hour.  Don't  seem  able  to  get  up  an 
edge." 

"He'll  get  up  an  edge  if  he  mixes  his  drinks,"  said  one 
of  the  barkeepers,  speaking  in  an  aside  to  his  companion. 

"Too  bad  he's  steaming,"  said  the  other.  "He's  a 
fine  fellow,  and  never  has  taken  anything." 

All  but  Frank  took  whiskey.  The  bottle  of  gin  was 
placed  before  him,  and  he  turned  out  a  "stiff"  drink  in  a 
glass.  He  was  given  water  as  a  chaser,  and  turned  that 
into  another  glass.  Then,  by  a  very  simple  bit  of  leger- 
demain, he  changed  the  glass  about,  so  that,  when  he  came 
to  drink,  he  took  the  water,  instead  of  the  gin.  As  the  gin 


Good  Advice.  101 

was  almost  exactly  the  color  of  the  water,  this  trick  was 
worked  with  ease.  The  gin  went  into  the  same  cuspidor 
that  had  caught  the  whiskey. 

After  this  Merriwell  seemed  more  hilarious  than  ever. 
He  called  one  of  the  barkeepers  aside  and  whispered  in 
his  ear : 

"Some  of  my  friends  said  they  were  going  to  sit  into  a 
little  game  down  here  to-night.  Thought  I'd  come  down. 
Can  you  let  me  in,  old  man?" 

"Sure,"  nodded  the  barkeeper.    "I'll  fix  that." 

He  pressed  a  button,  and  a  young  negro  came  in  by  a 
back  door. 

"Here,  Pomp,"  said  the  barkeeper,  "take  this  gent  into 
the  card-room  where  the  little  game  is  going  on.  He's  all 
right." 

"All  right,"  nodded  Pomp.    "Right  dis  way,  sar." 

Frank  followed.  He  slipped  a  silver  half-dollar  into 
Pomp's  hand,  and  the  darky  was  obsequious. 

Merry  knew  the  way  to  that  card-room.  He  had  been 
there  before,  but  he  had  taken  what  he  considered  the  best 
method  of  getting  in  there  without  trouble.  His  plan  had 
worked  finely. 

Pomp  rapped  on  the  door  in  a  peculiar  manner.  A  bolt 
shot  back,  and  Frank  stepped  in,  while  the  colored  boy 
said: 

"Heah  is  a  gemman  dat  wants  teh  come  in." 

"Hoop-la!"  cried  Merry,  dancing  about  the  room. 
"When  I  want  to  come  in,  you  can't  keep  me  out.  I'm 
hot  stuff !  If  you  touch  me,  you'll  get  scorched  !" 

Three  lads  were  playing  at  a  table.  Two  others  were 
standing  up.  All  regarded  Merriwell  in  astonishment. 

Sport  Harris  was  one  of  the  three  at  the  table,  Diamond 
and  Rattleton  were  the  others.  The  two  standing  were 
Walter  Gordan  and  Sydney  Gooch. 

There  were  poker  chips  on  the  table,  and  Harris  had 


102  Good  Advice. 

the  biggest  pile  in  front  of  him.  He  had  shaved  off  his 
infant  mustache,  and,  to  Merriwell,  his  face  betrayed  his 
true  character — that  of  a  sharper. 

On  the  walls  were  sporting  pictures.  There  was  a  well- 
worn  carpet  on  the  floor. 

Frank's  face  was  flushed,  and  he  made  a  false  step  when 
he  stopped  dancing  about.  He  did  it  in  a  manner  that  in- 
stantly aroused  the  suspicions  of  Diamond  and  Rattleton. 

Jack  and  Harry  exchanged  glances,  and  that  one  look 
was  full  of  doubt  and  inquiry. 

"Give  us  a  hand !"  cried  Merry,  thickly.  "I  want  to  get 
into  that  game !  I've  got  money  to  burn,  and  I'm  going 
to  burn  it  in  an  open  grate  1" 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

FRANK  GETS  ONTO  THE  GAME. 

"You  can't  get  into  this  game!"  cried  both  Diamond 
and  Rattleton. 

"What's  matter?"  demanded  Frank.  "Isn't  my  money 
good's  anybody's  ?  That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

"Yes,"  said  Jack,  quickly,  "your  money  is  all  right,  old 
man;  but  we  are  in  for  a  little  three-handed  game  of 
freeze-out,  and  I  object  to  taking  in  another  fellow." 

"Anything  'gainst  me  ?"  demanded  Frank,  his  imitation 
of  an  intoxicated  person  being  perfect. 

"No,  it's  not  that,  but " 

"Lemme  into  game?" 

"No." 

"All  right,  that  settles  it.  Oh,  's  all  right — 's  all  right ! 
My  money's  jesh  good's  anybody's  money.  I  don't  want 
to  come  in — wouldn't  come  in  'f  you  wanted  me  to!" 

He  pretended  to  be  angry,  and  it  was  done  in  a  man- 
ner that  would  have  commanded  the  admiration  of  all 
if  they  had  known  he  was  simply  acting.  As  it  was,  there 
was  not  a  man  present  who  did  not  believe  Frank  had  been 
drinking. 

Still,  Rattleton  was  determined  to  know  the  truth.  He 
pushed  a  button,  and  Pomp  appeared.  Harry  whispered 
in  the  darky's  ear,  telling  him  to  go  find  out  if  Frank  had 
taken  a  drink  of  anything  intoxicating  at  the  bar. 

Pomp  departed. 

Harris'  eyes  gleamed  with  satisfaction.  Frank  Merri- 
ivell  had  been  drinking;  he  felt  sure  of  that.  Two  more 
drinks  would  fill  him  up.  If  he  could  get  Merriwell  into 
the  game  and  fleece  him !  .What  a  revenge  that  would  be ! 


104        Frank  Gets  Onto  the  Game. 

Then  Sport  urged  the  others  to  let  Frank  into  the  game. 

"Why  should  we  be  piggish  if  Mr.  Merriwell  wants  to 
play?"  he  said. 

Again  Jack  and  Harry  looked  at  each  other. 

Pomp  returned  and  whispered  in  Harry's  ear.  Rattle- 
ton  grew  pale,  and  a  look  of  pain  came  to  his  face. 

So  Frank  Merriwell  had  taken  to  drinking  at  last! 
Harry  nodded  to  Diamond,  and  Jack's  white  teeth  gnawed 
at  his  lip. 

Both  objected  to  letting  Frank  into  the  game.  Harris 
insisted.  Both  Diamond  and  Rattleton  declared  they 
would  not  play. 

Then  Merriwell  said  he  did  not  want  to  break  up  the 
game,  and  refused  to  come  in  anyway. 

Harris  was  disgusted,  for  he  feared  he  had  lost  a  fine 
opportunity  to  fleece  the  fellow  he  hated  above  all  others 
at  Yale.  But  he  decided  to  keep  still  and  wait.  Perhaps 
Merriwell  would  want  to  come  in  later;  perhaps  a  party 
would  gather  so  that  a  game  could  be  made  up,  even  if 
Diamond  and  Rattleton  did  pull  out. 

Frank  ordered  a  drink.  He  told  Pomp  to  bring  him 
some  gin.  Harris  took  whiskey.  Gordan  and  Gooch  took 
the  same. 

Diamond  and  Rattleton  refused  to  take  anything. 

"Won't  even  drink  with  me,  eh  ?"  cried  Frank,  fiercely. 
"All  right !  I  know  who  m'  friends  are !" 

When  the  drinks  were  brought,  Jack  and  Harry 
watched  Merriwell  closely — too  closely  to  suit  him,  for  he 
saw  he  was  not  going  to  be  able  to  deceive  them  unless  he 
was  exceedingly  crafty. 

On  the  wall  was  a  picture*  of  John  L.  Sullivan.  Frank 
lifted  his  glass,  crying: 

"Here's  to  you,  John  L.,  old  boy.  You're  a  back  num- 
ber, but  you  were  a  daisy  in  your  day." 

Then  the  picture  seemed  to  say ; 


Frank  Gets  Onto  the  Game.         105 

"That's  all  right.  Corbett  found  there  were  others. 
Drink  hearty." 

Every  eye  was  turned  toward  the  picture,  and  then 
Merry  turned  the  gin  into  a  cuspidor,  so  that,  when  they 
looked  back,  he  was  drinking  the  water. 

All  the  wool  on  Pompey's  head  seemed  to  rise  on  its 
hind  legs.     The  darky  became  a  sickly  yellow,  and  his ; 
knees  trembled. 

"Gemmans,"  he  chattered,  "did  Ah  hear  dat  photum- 
graf  speak?  Oh  wuz  hit  an  optical  delusum  ob  mah 
ears?" 

Harris  grinned. 

"That  was  pretty  slick,"  he  said.  "Who  is  the  ventrilo- 
quist?" 

No  one  present  was  more  innocent  in  appearance  than 
Frank,  and  it  seemed  that  he  was  too  intoxicated  to  do  a 
trick  like  that.  He  seemed  to  have  all  he  could  carry  and 
stand  on  his  pins. 

"Too  bad !"  muttered  Rattleton,  as  Frank  walked  over 
and  gravely  stared  at  the  picture  of  Sullivan.  "Wouldn't 
believed  it  if  I  hadn't  seen  it." 

Diamond  was  silent,  but  his  thoughts  were  busy. 

"Oh,  it  won't  do  him  any  harm,"  laughed  Harris,  trying 
not  to  show  his  satisfaction.  "He  has  stuck  to  soft  drinks 
a  blamed  sight  longer  than  I  thought  he  could  and  run 
with  the  set  he  has  been  in." 

Both  Jack  and  Harry  felt  that  this  was  a  thrust  at 
them,  but  they  could  not  resent  it.  At  that  moment  they 
were  thoroughly  ashamed  of  themselves,  for  they  felt  that 
they  were  in  no  small  degree  responsible  for  the  condition 
of  their  friend. 

The  game  continued,  but  Merriwell  did  not  seem  to  pay 
the  slightest  attention  to  it.  He  looked  at  the  pictures  and 
talked  to  himself. 

Gordan  and  Gooch  were  fully  as  delighted  as  Harris,  for 


io6         Frank  Gets  Onto  the  Game. 

they  disliked  Frank.  If  anything,  Gooch  was  more  two- 
faced  than  Gordan.  He  had  few  friends  in  college. 

There  were  more  than  three  chairs  in  the  room,  but 
Gooch  and  Gordan  did  not  draw  them  up  to  the  table. 
They  stood  and  talked  to  each  other  in  low  tones. 

After  a  time  Merriwell  sat  down  on  a  chair,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  he  seemed  to  fall  asleep,  with  his  head 
hanging  over  on  one  side. 

"He's  off,"  laughed  Harris.  "What  a  surprise  it  must 
be  to  the  stomach  of  such  a  temperance  crank  as  he  has 
been !" 

"He's  never  been  a  crank !"  flared  Diamond.  "He  has 
not  chosen  to  drink,  but  you  know  he  has  not  been  med- 
dling with  fellows  who  wanted  to  do  so." 

"Oh,  don't  fly  off  the  handle  like  that!"  said  Harris. 
"Merriwell  is  all  right.  He'll  be  all  the  more  popular  now 
that  he  has  got  so  he  will  take  something." 

"He  is  purchasing  added  popularity  at  a  big  price,"  said 
Rattleton. 

Merriwell  heard  all  this,  but  still  he  seemed  to  sleep  on. 

The  game  continued.  As  it  was  freeze-out,  Harris  re- 
solved to  clean  Diamond  and  Rattleton  out  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. He  won  all  the  large  pots  that  he  stayed  on.  It 
was  a  remarkable  thing  that  when  he  was  beaten,  he 
dropped  his  cards  without  betting.  It  made  no  differ- 
ence who  dealt,  he  seemed  to  read  the  cards. 

Disgusted,  Diamond  called  for  a  fresh  pack.  Still,  every 
time  Diamond  or  Rattleton  got  the  "top  hand,"  Harris 
dropped  his  cards.  That  left  Jack  and  Harry  to  "buck" 
against  each  other,  and  both  were  eager  to  get  at  Harris. 

Gooch  and  Gordan  watched  the  game.  Gordan  pre- 
tended that  he  wanted  to  come  in.  He  asked  Gooch  for 
money,  but  Sydney  declared  he  was  "broke." 

All  the  while,  though  seeming  to  be  asleep,  Frank  was 
watching  the  players  and  the  two  on-lookers.  He  was 


Frank  Gets  Onto  the  Game.         107 

confident  that,  in  some  way,  Harris  was  fleecing  Jack  and 
Harry.  How  the  trick  was  being  done  was  what  he  meant 
to  find  out. 

Not  one  in  that  room  suspected  Merriwell  was  watch- 
ing him.  But,  if  Frank  had  come  there  without  seem- 
ing to  be  intoxicated,  all  would  have  suspected  his  pur- 
pose. Once  before  he  had  exposed  a  card  sharp,  and  he 
had  done  the  trick  very  cleverly. 

Now,  as  Frank  pretended  to  sleep,  he  saw  how  it  came 
about  that  Harris  always  knew  when  to  bet  and  when 
to  drop  his  cards. 

Gordan  and  Gooch  were  "tipping  him  off."  They 
stood  so  that  they  could  look  at  the  cards  held  by  Dia- 
mond and  Rattleton,  and  it  was  easy  enough  for  them  to 
signal  Harris. 

Frank's  blood  began  to  seethe  in  his  veins.  It  was 
with  difficulty  that  he  kept  still  long  enough  to  discover 
the  meaning  of  all  the  signals  employed  by  Harris'  allies. 

At  last,  he  could  stand  it  no  longer.  A  big  pot  was 
on  the  table.  Diamond  held  three  aces,  and  Rattleton 
had  a  flush.  Still,  Harris  was  raising  every  time  it  came 
his  turn. 

Merriwell  arose  to  his  feet,  advanced  quickly,  and 
grasped  Gordan  and  Gooch  by  the  collar.  Then  there 
was  a  crack  as  he  rapped  the  heads  of  the  two  rascals  to- 
gether. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HARRIS  AT  BAY. 

"Ouch!" 

"Leggo!" 

"You  hurt!" 

"Wow!" 

The  startled  rascals  uttered  the  exclamations  as  Frank 
Merriwell  shook  them,  one  with  each  hand,  as  if  they 
were  children. 

The  trio  at- the  table  were  no  less  startled.  Frank's 
action  had  been  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  they  were 
dazed  for  a  moment. 

"Help!"  cried  Gooch. 

"Take  him  off!"  squawked  Gordan. 

"He's  crazy !"  exclaimed  Harris,  starting  to  his  feet. 

"Sit  down,  Harris !"  rang  out  Frank  Merriwell's  clear 
voice,  as  he  flashed  a  look  over  his  shoulder  at  the  chief 
rascal. 

Harris  dropped  back  into  his  seat  as  if  those  words 
had  knocked  him  down. 

At  that  moment  Frank  showed  no  signs  of  intoxica- 
tion, although  he  had  seemed  so  full  a  short  time  before. 
It  was  this  fact  that  upset  Harris  as  much  as  anything. 

Jack  and  Harry  were  startled.  They  sat  still  some 
seconds,  staring  at  Frank. 

Harris  jumped  up  again,  crying: 

"Get  hold  of  him !  He's  nutty !  What  has  he  jumped 
on  Gordan  and  Gooch  that  way  for?" 

"I'll  tell  you  why  I  jumped  on  them,"  said  Frank. 
"I  did  it  because  they  are  a  precious  pair  of  scoundrels 
who  are  helping  you  fleece  my  friends!" 


Harris  at  Bay.  109 

Harris  turned  pale.  Once  before  this  same  keen-eyed 
youth  had  exposed  him  in  a  piece  of  rascality.  Had 
Merriwell  detected  him  in  his  crookedness  a  second  time  ? 

Harris  knew  the  only  course  was  to  put  on  a  bold  face, 
so,  with  a  pretense  of  mingled  astonishment  and  indigna- 
tion, he  asked: 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Frank  Merriwell?" 

"Just  what  I  said,"  came  from  Frank,  as,  with  a  snap, 
he  cast  the  two  accomplices  reeling  aside.  "I  am  on  to  the 
dirty  trick,  Harris !" 

"Be  careful !"  came  threateningly  from  Sport,  as  he 
took  a  step  toward  Merry.  "You'll  find  I  am  not  ready 
to  take  such  talk  from  a  fellow  who  is  drunk." 

"I  am  not  drunk,  Harris,"  declared  Frank.  "Further 
than  that  I  have  not  taken  a  single  drink.  I  knew  if  I 
came  here  when  I  seemed  to  be  sober  you  would  be  on 
your  guard,  and  I  could  not  catch  you.  That  was  why 
I  made  believe  I  had  been  drinking.  I  fooled  you  very 
nicely,  and  thus  I  was  able  to  get  on  to  your  crooked 
work." 

"You  are  drunk  now!"  exclaimed  Harris,  desperately, 
although  he  knew  better  when  he  said  so.  "We  all  saw 
you  take  a  drink  of  gin." 

"You  saw  me  take  a  drink  of  water — nothing  more. 
The  gin  went  into  that  cuspidor  when  you  turned  your 
head  at  the  time  that  John  L.  up  there  on  the  wall  saw  fit 
to  make  a  remark  in  response  to  my  toast.  That,  too, 
was  a  little  ruse  of  mine,  and  it  worked  beautifully.  You 
have  been  fooled  this  time,  Harris,  and  you  can't  squirm 
out  of  it." 

Gordan  and  Gooch  were  pulling  themselves  together, 
glaring  at  Frank  in  a  manner  that  betrayed  their  mingled 
hatred  and  fear.  Gooch  picked  up  his  hat,  which  had 
fallen  to  the  floor,  and  restored  it  to  shape,  while  Gor- 
dan tenderly  rubbed  his  head. 


no  Harris  at  Bay. 

Diamond  and  Rattleton  were  both  astonished  and  re- 
lieved. They  were  astonished  by  Frank's  sudden  action 
and  his  words,  and  they  were  relieved  to  hear  him  declare 
he  had  not  taken  a  drink  of  liquor.  Instantly  both  Tack 
and  Harry  felt  that  Frank  knew  what  he  was  doing 
and  what  he  was  talking  about,  but  they  wanted  an 
explanation,  and  that  was  something  Harris  really  did 
not  want.  How  had  they  been  skinned  ?  It  must  be  that 
Gooch  and  Gordan  had  been  giving  their  hands  away  to 
Harris. 

Sport  grew  paler  than  ever,  but  he  continued  to  "put 
on  a  front." 

"What  are  you  driving  at?"  he  hoarsely  demanded. 

"I  am  driving  at  you,  my  fine  fellow !  I  want  you  to 
give  up  the  money  you  have  won  from  my  friends." 

"I  refuse !    I  will  not  be  robbed !" 

Frank  laughed. 

"You  are  a  nice  chap  to  talk  about  being  robbed!  A 
few  moments  ago  you  were  robbing  my  friends !  That  is 
what  I  mean !  It  was  robbing  them  just  as  much  as  it 
would  be  to  put  your  hands  into  their  pockets  and  take 
their  watch  or  money." 

"Be  careful,  Merriwell!"  grated  the  chief  rascal. 
"You'll  have  to  prove  that !" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !  My  word  will  go  against  a  fellow 
like  you.  I  saw  your  curs  here  giving  you  signals.  I 
can  tell  their  signals  for  two  pairs,  threes,  a  straight,  a 
flush,  full  house  and  fours.  They  signaled  to  you,  and  you 
knew  what  was  against  you.  That  is  how  you  knew 
enough  to  lay  down  your  hand  every  time  you  were 
beaten." 

"It's  a  lie!"  snarled  Harris. 

"It's  a  lie !"  faintly  echoed  Gordan. 

"Yes,  it's  a  lie!"  weakly  supported  Gooch. 

"It  is  the  truth!     Look,  Diamond — look,  Rattleton— 


Harris  at  Bay.  in 

look  at  their  faces!  There  is  guilt  for  you!  It  proves 
iny  charge  true  without  another  word !" 

Gooch  betrayed  guilt  more  than  either  of  the  others. 
Gordan  made  an  effort  to  look  innocent,  but  did  not  suc- 
ceed very  well,  while  Harris  ground  his  teeth  furiously. 

"Are  you  going  to  let  him  circulate  this  story  about 
us,  fellows?"  cried  Harris,  savagely. 

"No,"  said  Gooch,  with  an  effort. 

"No,"  said  Gordan,  with  a  little  more  spirit. 

"But  what  can  we  do?"  asked  Gooch,  helplessly. 

"Go  for  him !"  shouted  Harris.  "We'll  go  for  him  all 
together,  and  we  can  do  him  up!" 

"That's  right,"  said  Gooch,  but  he  edged  away  from 
Merriwell. 

"Come  on !"  cried  Gordan,  with  sudden  rage.  "No  fel- 
low can  use  me  the  way  Merriwell  has  and  not  be  sorry 
for  it !" 

"Stop !"  exploded  Diamond,  jumping  up. 

"Stop !"  roared  Rattleton,  also  rising. 

"Don't  try  to  lay  a  hand  on  Merriwell,"  rang  out 
Jack's  voice. 

"Don't  try  to  put  a  finger  on  him!"  shot  forth  Rattle- 
ton. 

"If  you  do " 

"We'll  do  you!" 

"Sit  down,  fellows — sit  down!"  laughed  Merriwell, 
motioning  for  Diamond  and  Rattleton  to  resume  their 
seats.  "Why,  I  can  polish  off  all  three  of  these  fellows. 
It  will  be  easy,  and  I  shall  consider  it  a  great  piece  of 
good  luck  if  they  will  wade  right  into  me." 

Frank  was  in  a  dangerous  mood.  All  the  indignation 
of  his  soul  had  been  aroused,  and  he  felt  like  fighting 
at  that  moment.  It  was  not  often  he  felt  that  way,  but 
he  was  a  dangerous  man  when  the  mood  seized  him. 

Gordan's    courage    suddenly    wilted.     He    had   heard 


H2  Harris  at  Bay. 

Frank  laugh  like  that  before,  and  that  laugh  was  a  warn- 
ing. He  lost  his  eagerness  to  get  at  Merriwell. 

Gooch  did  not  have  any  courage  to  lose. 

Harris  realized  his  satellites  had  wilted  and  a  bitter 
imprecation  came  from  his  lips. 

"Go  slow,  Merriwell!"  he  cried,  warningly.  "Don't 
push  me  too  far !  You  have  no  proof  of  this  charge,  and 
I  declare  it  false.  Mr.  Gordan  and  Mr.  Gooch  both  say 
it  is  false.  That  is  three  against  one." 

"I  rather  think  my  word  will  go  against  all  three  of 
you,"  came  coolly  from  Merriwell.  "A  fellow  who  has 
been  detected  in  crooked  work  once  has  not  much  of  a 
reputation  to  stand  on." 

"Do  you  know  that  Gordan  and  Gooch  were  giving 
away  to  Harris  what  we  held?"  asked  the  Virginian, 
savagely. 

"Yes,"  nodded  Frank,  "I  know  it." 

"That  settles  it!"  came  harshly  from  Jack's  lips,  as  he 
quickly  placed  his  back  against  the  door.  "Shell  out, 
Harris!  Give  up  all  you  have  won  from  us!" 

"Yes,  give  it  up,  or  I'll  hunch  your  ped — I  mean  punch 
your  head!"  spluttered  Harry,  making  a  threatening 
move  toward  the  gambler. 

Harris  looked  around  helplessly.  He  saw  there  was  no 
hope  for  him.  Gordan  and  Gooch  would  do  nothing  to 
assist  him. 

He  had  sold  chips  to  the  others  repeatedly,  besides  act- 
ing as  banker.  He  took  a  roll  of  bills  out  of  his  pocket 
and  flung  them  on  the  table. 

"There's  all  I  have !"  he  snarled.  "If  you  are  going  to 
rob  me,  take  the  whole  of  it ;  but  I  swear  you  shall  suffer 
for  this!" 

"Take  what  is  your  due,  fellows,"  directed  Frank; 
"and  don't  mind  what  he  says.  If  he  attempts  to  make 
trouble  about  it,  I'll  take  care  that  he  is  drummed  out  of 


Harris  at  Bay.  1 1 3 

college.  It  is  what  he  deserves,  and  I  believe  it  is  my  duty 
to  see  that  he  gets  his  deserts." 

Harris  looked  on  sullenly  while  Diamond  and  Rattle- 
ton  consulted  together.  He  expected  to  lose  the  monej' 
he  had  won  in  such  a  crooked  manner,  and  he  bit  his 
tongue  with  rage  whenever  he  thought  how  he  had  been 
tricked  and  trapped  by  Frank  Merriwell. 

He  had  hated  Merriwell  before,  but  now  he  felt  that 
he  could  kill  the  fellow  without  a  qualm  of  conscience. 
All  his  bad  luck  had  been  brought  about  by  Merriwell. 
Whenever  he  made  a  wager  on  anything  Merriwell  en- 
tered into  the  game  somewhere  and  upset  all  his  calcula- 
tions. He  remembered  with  overwhelming  fury  how 
Yale  had  taken  the  gridiron  with  a  far  weaker  football 
team  than  Harvard,  how  he  had  bet  everything  he  could 
raise  on  Harvard,  and  how  Merriwell,  who  had  not  been 
expected  to  play,  had  gone  in  as  full-back  and  proved  the 
principal  cause  of  Harvard's  defeat. 

And  now,  when  Harris  was  doing  something  to  re- 
trieve his  fallen  fortunes,  once  more  Merriwell  upset  his 
plan  and  exposed  his  crookedness. 

Walter  Gordan  felt  quite  as  bad  as  Harris,  but  the 
time  was  past  when  Walter  dared  openly  face  Merriwell 
in  anything. 

Sydney  Gooch,  always  foxy  and  hypocritical,  never 
possessed  courage  enough  to  show  his  colors. 

After  speaking  together,  Diamond  and  Rattleton  turned 
toward  Harris,  and  the  former  said: 

"Pick  up  that  money,  Harris,  and  put  it  into  your 
pocket.  You  have  won  it  in  some  manner,  and  we  are 
not  going  to  touch  it." 

Harris  had  not  expected  this,  and  now  that  it  had  come 
he  hesitated.  He  suspected  some  sort  of  a  trick. 

"No!"  he  cried. 

"You  won't?"  gasped  Rattleton.    - 


ii4  Harris  at  Bay. 

"No!" 

*  Why  not?" 

"I  have  been  accused  of  beating  you  out  of  that  money 
in  a  crooked  manner.  Take  your  money  back !  I  will  not 
touch  a  cent  of  it !" 

Harris  was  playing  a  part  now,  for  he  hoped  they 
would  not  take  the  money.  He  was  making  a  bluff  by 
showing  indignation,  hoping  to  restore  his  standing  in 
their  eyes  in  a  measure,  at  least. 

Frank  smiled  a  bit.  He  could  read  the  fellow  like 
an  open  book,  and  he  thoroughly  understood  Harris' 
game. 

"You  have  been  accused "  began  Jack. 

"But "  put  in  Harry. 

Then  both  hesitated. 

"It  has  not  been  proved,"  said  Walter  Gordan,  quickly ; 
"and  it  can't  be  proved.  You  won  the  money  honorably, 
Sport,  so  keep  it,  I  say." 

"I  say  so,  too,"  came  faintly  from  Syd  Gooch,  who  felt 
that  he  must  say  something  to  support  Gordan. 

"Very  well,"  said  Frank,  quietly;  "keep  the  money, 
Harris." 

But  Harris  hesitated,  fearing  this  sudden  change  in 
Merriwell  meant  another  trap. 

"No!"  he  huskily  said,  sitting  down  on  a  chair  and 
thrusting  his  hands  into  his  pockets.  "Take  out  the 
money  I  won  from  you,  Diamond  and  Rattleton.  Next 
time  I  play  I'll  choose  men  who  will  not  squeal  when  they 
are  honorably  beaten." 

Diamond  flushed  and  took  a  quick  step  toward  the  in- 
sulting speaker. 

"Harris!"  he  cried,  "if  you  accuse  me  of  squealing, 
you  lie!  That  is  straight  and  plain  enough.  I  do  not 
care  to  be  beaten  out  of  my  money  by  a  card  sharp  and  a 
crook,  but  I  never  cry  baby  when  I  lose  fairly." 


Harris  at  Bay.  115 

"Nor  I,"  hastily  declared  Rattleton. 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Sport,  with  a  sneer,  "I  don't  suppose 
you  fellows  are  to  blame  for  your  friends.  Some  of 
them " 

Frank  made  a  warning  gesture. 

"Better  be  careful,  Harris,"  he  said.  "I  have  handled 
you  gently  so  far,  but  there  is  a  limit.  If  Mr.  Diamond 
and  Mr.  Rattleton  do  not  choose  to  take  back  their  money, 
that  is  their  business;  but  they  may  be  satisfied  all  the 
same  that  you  were  playing  a  skin  game  with  them.  Take 
my  advice,  pick  up  your  money  and  get  out  of  here.  You 
will  not  make  anything  by  remaining  to  talk  it  over,  and 
you  may  stir  me  up.  In  case  that  happens,  you  will  not 
escape  any  easier  than  did  your  confederates." 

"Don't  you  dare  put  a  hand  on  me!"  snarled  Harris, 
starting  to  his  feet  and  carrying  one  hand  back  toward 
his  hip  pocket. 

Frank  laughed. 

"If  I  thought  of  doing  so,  you  would  not  stop  me  by 
making  that  kind  of  a  motion,"  he  declared.  "I  don't 
doubt  but  you  carry  a  gun,  but  it  is  not  handy.  Out 
West  men  who  are  liable  to  need  a  gun  and  need  it  in  a 
hurry  never  think  of  carrying  one  around  in  such  an  awk- 
ward place,  for  they  know  the  first  movement  in  that 
direction  is  a  warning  to  an  enemy,  and  the  chances  are 
about  ten  to  one  that  they  will  find  themselves  toes  up 
before  they  can  get  their  shooting-iron  out  for  business." 

"We're  not  out  West,"  muttered  Harris ;  "and  I  rather 
think  I  can  draw  quick  enough  to  fix  you." 

"Why,  you  wouldn't  have  the  nerve  to  use  that  gun 
after  you  drew  it,"  declared  Frank.  "In  fact,  I  don't  be- 
lieve you  would  have  nerve  enough  to  draw  it.  Any- 
way, I  am  coming  at  you — right  now !" 

He  walked    swiftly    toward    Harris,  who    fell    back 


n6  Harris  at  Bay. 

against  the  wall,  crying  out  for  him  to  stop,  but  did  not 
draw  his  revolver. 

Frank  followed  the  fellow  up  to  the  wall,  and  then, 
with  a  scornful  laugh,  turned  his  back  on  him  in  the  most 
careless  and  disdainful  manner  and  walked  away. 

Harris  looked  as  if  he  longed  to  leap  like  a  panther 
on  Merriwell's  back,  but  it  was  plain  he  did  not  dare  do 
it.  The  very  fact  that  Frank  gave  him  such  an  oppor- 
tunity by  turning  his  back  held  Harris  in  check  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  for  it  seemed  that  Merriwell  was  eager  for 
him  to  make  an  attack. 

"That's  all  right!"  he  grated.  "If  Gordan  and  Gooch 
would  stand  by  me,  I'd " 

"What  would  you  do?" 

Frank  turned  and  shot  the  question  into  Sport's  face. 

"I'd— I'd  fight  you !" 

"Oh,  well,  it  is  easy  enough  to  arrange  that,"  said 
Merriwell,  who  seemed  aroused  in  a  manner  that  sur- 
prised Jack  and  Harry.  "We  can  have  a  little  set-to  " 

"When  I  fight  you,  I  want  fair  play." 

"You  shall  have  it." 

"No!  If  I  were  getting  the  best  of  you,  your  friends 
here  would  interfere.  If  you  were  getting  the  best  of 
me,  neither  Gordan  nor  Gooch  would  lift  a  hand  to  help 
me." 

"Is  that  what  you  think?  Well,  we  can  fix  it.  We'll 
run  them  all  out  of  the  room  and  lock  the  door.  You 
and  I  will  be  in  here  together,  and  I'll  agree  to  lick  you 
till  you  beg  before  they  can  break  in  to  us." 

Harris  wilted. 

"I  don't  propose  to  let  you  arrange  it,"  he  said ;  "but  I 
am  going  to  get  a  crack  at  you  before  long.  I  will  tell 
you  that  now.  You  want  to  look  out  for  me." 

"I  know  what  you  will  do.  You'll  try  to  get  a  crack 
at  me  behind  my  back.  That  is  brave !  All  right !  I  am 


Harris  at  Bay.  117 

not  alarmed,  but  I  warn  you  now  that  I  have  stood  all  I 
can  from  you.  I  spared  you  once,  but  I  shall  not  be  so 
merciful  the  next  time.  If  you  try  anything  dirty  on  me, 
I'll  give  you  no  rest — I'll  drive  you  out  of  Yale!" 

Sport  shrank  a  bit  closer  against  the  wall,  and  his  face 
hardened. 

"So  be  it !"  he  cried.  "We  understand  each  other  now. 
I  know  what  you  will  try  to  do,  and  you  know  I  am  your; 
enemy.  The  time  of  avowed  hostilities  has  come.  You 
are  a  popular  man,  but  it  is  possible  that  you  have  esti- 
mated your  popularity  too  high.  Even  you  can  be 
reached,  if  the  trick  is  done  right." 

"Then  it  is  to  be  open  war  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Good  enough !     I  see  your  finish !" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !  You  are  not  the  only  cake  of  ice 
in  the  cooler,  and  you  won't  last  forever." 

Without  paying  any  further  attention  to  Harris,  Frank 
turned  to  Jack  and  Harry. 

"Come,  fellows,"  he  said,  "let's  get  out  of  this  place. 
Take  my  advice,  and  stay  away  from  it." 

Harris  picked  up  the  roll  of  money.  Without  speak- 
ing to  Gordan  or  Gooch,  he  walked  out  of  the  room. 
They  followed  close  at  his  heels,  both  seeming  glad  to 
escape  as  easily  as  they  did. 

When  they  were  gone,  Diamond  turned  to  Frank,  con- 
fessing : 

"You  were  right  about  Harris,  old  man.  I  would  not 
take  your  warning  then,  but  now  I  see  we  were  foolish  to 
play  poker  with  a  chap  of  his  caliber  after  knowing  he 
had  been  in  a  crooked  deal  once." 

"Let  poker  alone,  fellows,"  said  Merriwell,  soberly. 
"There  is  no  one  who  likes  the  game  more  than  I,  but  I 
keep  away  from  it,  for  I  know  what  will  happen  if  I  allow 
myself  to  chase  it.  There  is  nothing  can  get  such  a  hold 


n8  Harris  at  Bay. 

on  a  fellow  as  poker,  and  nothing  will  do  him  greatei 
damage,  unless  it  is  drinking." 

He  stopped  short,  feeling  that  it  would  not  be  best  to 
"preach." 

His  words  were  not  wasted,  and  they  seemed  all  the 
more  impressive  from  the  fact  that  both  lads  knew  he 
spoke  the  truth  when  he  said  no  one  liked  the  game 
more  than  he. 

"I'd  like  to  get  back  some  of  the  money  Harris  has 
won  from  me  lately,"  said  Harry. 

"Well,  we  can't  win  it  back,"  said  Jack,  "so  we'll  have 
to  let  it  go." 

"That  is  a  sensible  conclusion,"  said  Frank. 

"But  there  is  one  thing  we  can  do,"  cried  Jack. 

"What's  that?" 

"We  can  help  crowd  that  fellow  out  of  Yale." 

"Sure !"  eagerly  exclaimed  Harry. 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"Don't  think  of  it,  fellows,"  he  said. 

"Why  not?" 

"It  would  not  be  right  for  all  of  us  to  get  onto  his  neck 
at  once.  He  would  say  it  was  a  case  of  persecution  be- 
cause he  won  money  from  you,  and  it  would  seem  that 
•  way." 

"I  don't  believe  he'd  dare  say  anything  of  the  sort," 
said  Harry. 

"Well,  even  if  he  didn't,  it  would  seem  like  three  on 
one,  and  I  like  to  see  any  fellow,  no  matter  who  or  what 
he  is,  have  a  fair  fighting  show.  There  is  to  be  open 
hostilities  between  Harris  and  myself.  Let  us  alone — let 
us  settle  it." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A     SLEIGHING     PARTY. 

"Art  dreaming  ?  awake !  and  the  stars  shall  pale, 

While  I  bathe  in  the  light  of  thine  eyes; 
Art  musing?  ah!  shake  off  fancy's  veil, 

For  thy  face  needs  no  disguise. 
The  sea  sleeps  calm  in  the  light  of  the  moon, 

The  stars  guard  heaven's  gate; 
Then  tell  me  not,  Love,  I  have  come  too  soon, 

For,  queen  of  my  love,  I  wait. 

"The  sea  sleeps  calm  in  the  light  of  the  moon, 

The  stars  guard  heaven's  gate; 
Oh,  tell  me  not,  Love,  I  have  come  too  soon, 

For,  light  of  my  soul,  I  wait. 
Beloved,  beloved,  beloved,  thy  loved  one  waits." 

A  fresh  fall  of  snow  lay  on  the  ground,  and  the  moon 
was  high  in  the  heavens.  It  was  a  perfect  night — just 
the  night  for  a  sleighing  party. 

Out  of  New  Haven  drove  a  merry  party,  twenty  in  all. 
They  were  in  single  sleighs  and  double-seaters.  The 
bells  tinkled  merrily,  and  the  voices  of  the  jolly  lads  and 
light-hearted  girls  mingled  sweetly  in  the  song  Frank  had 
started. 

Never  had  Frank  seemed  in  better  spirits.  He  was 
handling  the  reins  over  a  "spanking  span,"  and  Fanny 
Darling  was  at  his  side,  while  on  the  seat  behind  him 
were  Bart  Hodge  and  Bessie  Blossom. 

Bessie  and  Mable  Creighton  had  come  on  from  Phila- 
delphia to  visit  their  brothers  at  Yale,  and  Fanny  had 
accompanied  them.  Just  why  she  wished  to  come  she 
had  not  stated,  but  there  were  those  in  the  secret  who 
knew  she  would  not  have  taken  the  trouble  but  for  the 
fact  that  Frank  Merriwell  was  a  student  of  "Old  Eli." 


120  A  Sleighing  Party. 

Bessie  Blossom  had  been  Bart's  favorite  at  the  time  the 
"Yale  Combine"  was  stopping  in  the  Quaker  City,  and 
she  seemed  well  satisfied  to  have  him  as  a  companion  on 
this  ride. 

The  sleighs  strung  out  along  the  road,  and  there  was 
laughter  and  calling  from  sleigh  to  sleigh.  Frank  started 
the  singing,  and  Fanny  Darling  joined  in.  He  leaned 
closer  as  he  sang,  and  she  did  not  draw  away.  The  verse 
ended,  and  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  his,  the  moonlight  falling 
full  on  her  face.  He  was  looking  down  at  her. 

"What  a  splendid  singer  you  are,  Mr.  Merriwell !"  she 
exclaimed.  "You  really  sang  that  as  if  you  meant  it." 

"As  if  I  did!"  cried  Frank,  softly.     "Well,  didn't  I?" 

"Perhaps  so,  if  you  were  thinking  of  some  one  else." 

Fanny  knew  all  about  Inza  Burrage  and  Elsie  Bell- 
wood.  She  had  heard  Frank  confess  that  he  cared  more 
for  Elsie  than  all  other  girls.  He  had  not  tried  to  de- 
ceive her,  and  for  that  reason  her  admiration  for  him 
was  something  more  than  mere  friendship,  even  though 
she  realized  fully  that  Frank  could  be  nothing  but  a  friend 
to  her. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  smiled  Frank.  "Life  is  young, 
you  and  I  are  together.  Why  should  we  think  of  any 
one  else  to-night?" 

Her  head  drooped,  and  she  nestled  a  bit  nearer. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  murmured.  "Perhaps  it  would  not 
be  so  very  wicked,  just  for  to-night." 

Then  Frank  started  on  the  second  verse  of  the  song: 

"Art  sleeping?  ah,  no!  for  the  night  is  still  young, 

Still  far  too  young  for  sleep ; 
'Not  yet  hath  the  glow  which  the  day  god  flung 

Been  lost  in  the  western  deep. 
Art  absent?  not  so,  it  cannot  be, 

To-night  is  the  night  we  meet; 
iWhile  breathing  and  free,  thou  knowest  well, 

This  night  I  am  at  thy  feet. 


A  Sleighing  Party.  121 

"The  sea  sleeps  calm  in  the  light  of  the  moon, 

The  stars  guard  heaven's  gate; 
Oh,  tell  me  not,  love,  I  have  come  too  soon, 

For,  queen  of  my  soul,  I  wait. 
Beloved,  beloved,  beloved,  thy  loved  one  waits — 

Thy  loved  one  waits." 

Silence,  the  tinkle  of  the  bells,  the  crunch  of  snow 
under  the  feet  of  the  horses,  the  softly  smiling  moon,  the 
world  asleep  beneath  its  robe  of  white — a  night  for  young 
hearts  and  for  whispered  words  of  love. 

The  words  of  the  beautiful  song  stirred  Fanny  Dar- 
ling's soul.  She  knew  that  she  loved  Frank  Merriwell — 
there  was  no  doubt  of  it  now.  But  she  must  hold  it 
down — crush  it  back. 

Then  came  the  thought  that  it  was  for  but  one  night. 
Why  should  she  not  be  happy  that  night,  at  least?  They 
might  never  be  together  again  like  this. 

"Thou  knowest  well,  this  night  I  am  at  thy  feet." 
Frank  had  sung  those  words,  and  she  felt  that  he  had 
sung  them  to  her.  For  one  night  they  belonged  to  each 
other.  She  would  try  to  be  as  happy  as  if  she  expected 
that  night  to  last  forever. 

So  she  felt  his  arm  about  her,  and  she  was  happy.  She 
thought  of  his  heroic  act  in  saving  her  from  horrible  dis- 
figurement, from  possible  death  by  fire,  and  she  realized 
that,  deep  in  her  heart,  he  had  been  the  one  hero  of  her 
life  ever  since  that  evening. 

A  thousand  times  Fanny  had  longed  for  an  opportunity 
to  square  the  great  debt  she  owed  Frank.  She  had  felt 
that  she  could  die  for  him.  Once  he  had  thought  her 
frivolous  and  cruel,  and  she  longed  to  show  him  how 
much  he  had  misjudged  her. 

"No  whispering,"  called  Bessie  Blossom,  with  a  light 
laugh.  "It  isn't  polite  in  company,  you  know." 

"It  can't  be  that  Mr.  Hodge  is  doing  his  duty,"  Fanny 


122  A  Sleighing  Party. 

tossed  over  her  shoulder.  "If  he  were  you  would  not 
notice  what  is  going  on  in  front." 

"I  may  not  be  doing  my  duty,  but  I  am  trying  to  hold 
my  own,"  said  Bart,  as  he  clasped  his  arm  still  more 
tightly  about  the  girl  at  his  side. 

Frank  gasped. 

"Never  knew  you  to  say  anything  like  that  before,  old 
man,"  he  declared.  "How  long  since  you  have  taken  to 
joking." 

"That  was  no  joke,"  returned  Bart.  "I  am  not  letting 
words  go  to  waste." 

"How  about  your  arm?"  laughed  Fanny. 

"Well,  there  are  others." 

Some  one  struck  up  a  college  song,  and  the  entire  party 
joined  in  the  chorus. 

"Where  are  we  going,  Merriwell?"  asked  Bart. 

"Oh,  out  to  some  old  farmer's  somewhere  in  the  coun- 
try. Pierson  has  an  uncle  out  here  somewhere,  I  believe, 
a  staid  old  codger  who  will  drop  dead  when  we  all  drive 
into  his  yard  and  pull  him  out  of  bed,  for  it's  ten  to  one 
he'll  be  abed  when  we  get  there." 

"Oh,  but  this  is  a  jolly  lark!"  cried  Fanny.  "I'm 
awfully  glad  I  came  on  to  New  Haven  with  you  and 
Mabel,  Bessie." 

"Don't  you  think  college  fellows  are  just  the  nicest 
fellows  in  the  world  ?"  asked  Bessie. 

"Of  course  they  are,  and  Yale  fellows  are  the  nicest 
college  fellows  in  the  world." 

"Oh,  there  are  cheap  fellows  in  Yale,"  said  Frank. 
"There  is  one  in  this  very  party.  I  don't  care  to  name 
him,  but  I  was  sorry  to  see  him  in  this  crowd." 

He  was  thinking  of  Sport  Harris. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

UNCLE  ASA  AND  AUNT  PRISCILLA. 

Farmer  Asa  Stebbins  had  attended  to  the  chores  for  the 
night.  He  had  cared  for  the  cattle,  bedded  down  Nancy, 
the  old  farm  horse,  locked  the  stable  and  betaken  himself 
to  his  cheerful  fireside. 

When  supper  was  eaten,  Uncle  Asa  smoked  his  pipe, 
while  Priscilla,  his  good  wife,  industriously  knitted  away 
at  a  pair  of  warm  socks  she  was  making  for  her  husband. 
Conversation  came  at  intervals.  The  cat  purred  on  the 
hearth. 

Uncle  Asa  looked  over  the  last  weekly  paper  as  he 
smoked.  He  had  read  it  all  once,  but,  for  want  of  some- 
thing else,  he  read  some  of  the  most  interesting  items 
over  again. 

At  length  Uncle  Asa  cleared  his  throat  and  laughed 
softly  to  himself. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  father?"  asked  his  wife. 
"What  do  you  find  in  the  paper  that's  so  funny  ?" 

"Oh,  here's  an  item  about  them  college  chaps  over  al 
New  Haven,  but  it  wasn't  that  I  was  laughin'  at." 

"What  was  it,  then?" 

"I  was  thinkin',  mother." 

Aunt  Priscilla  did  not  ask  any  more  questions,  for  she 
knew  her  husband  well  enough  to  be  sure  he  would  tell 
what  he  was  thinking  of  quite  as  soon  if  she  kept  still  as 
if  she  pressed  him.  After  a  time,  the  old  man  laughed 
again,  in  his  dry  way,  observing: 

"What  a  jokin'  set  of  fellers  them  college  chaps  be! 
Alwus  tryin'  to  have  fun  with  somebody." 


124        Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla. 

"  'Cording  to  what  I've  heard,  them  chaps  carry  their 
jokin'  altogether  too  fur  sometimes,"  said  Aunt  Priscilla. 

"Oh,  well,  boys  will  be  boys,  you  know.  Now  if  our 
Jimmy  had  lived  to  grow  up,  I'd  wanted  him  to  go  to 
college  and  git  his  eddycation  finished.  I  never  had  many 
advantages  myself,  and " 

"I  don't  know  as  it's  any  great  advantage  to  any  boy  to 
go  to  college  and  wear  long  hair  and  break  his  collar  bone 
playin'  football.  That's  'bout  all  them  college  chaps  seem 
to  do." 

"They  do  have  fun,"  said  Uncle  Asa,  chuckling  again. 
"Now,  I  remember  'way  back  years  ago  a  prank  they 
played  on  an  old  farmer  that  lived  somewhere  out  in  the 
country.  That  was  before  they  had  put  up  all  them  new 
buildin's.  The  old  State  House  was  standin'  then.  It 
was  the  greatest  joke." 

The  old  man  shook  with  silent  laughter,  and  his  wife 
looked  at  him  sharply,  wondering  that  he  should  be  so 
amused. 

"You  know  them  college  chaps  have  a  fence  down 
there,"  the  farmer  pursued.  "They  consider  it  their 
sacred  property.  There  was  another  fence  back  in  them 
days.  The  boys  roosted  on  that  fence  jest  as  they  roost 
on  the  one  they've  got  now.  Well,  this  farmer  I'm  tellin' 
you  of  drove  into  town  and  hitched  up  his  hoss  to  their 
fence,  while  he  went  off  to  'tend  to  some  business. 

"Ho !  ho !  ho !"  laughed  Uncle  Asa.  "The  hoss  cribbed 
away  at  the  top  of  that  fence,  and  when  the  student  fellers 
come  out  from  recitation  they  saw  him  hitched  there  and 
trying  to  eat  their  fence.  They  didn't  like  that,  and  they 
got  together  an'  set  about  concoctin'  some  sort  of  a  plan 
to  punish  the  farmer  for  darin'  to  hitch  his  nag  to  their 
sacred  fence." 

The  old  man  pulled  at  the  pipe  a  moment,  quite  wn- 


Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla.         125 

aware  that  it  had  gone  out.  There  was  a  whimsical  loolc 
on  his  weather-tanned  face. 

"Purty  soon  they  struck  onto  a  plan,"  he  continued. 
"They  drove  the  team  over  to  the  State  House  and  un- 
hitched it.  The  buildin'  was  not  in  use  at  that  time,  so 
what  did  them  darn  boys  do  but  lead  the  farmer's  hoss  in 
and  take  him  right  up  the  stairs.  That's  right,  mother 
— them  dare-devil  boys  done  it.  There  was  a  flight  of 
stairs  leadin'  right  up  to  the  roof,  which  was  purty  near 
flat,  and  out  onto  the  roof  they  took  that  hoss." 

"Land  sakes !"  exclaimed  Aunt  Priscilla,  putting  down 
her  knitting.  "Do  tell !" 

"Fact,"  chuckled  Uncle  Asa.  "Then  them  young  ras- 
cals took  the  farmer's  waggin  all  to  pieces  and  carried  it 
up  there  piece  by  piece  and  put  it  together  again." 

"Well,  I  declare !"  exclaimed  the  listener. 

"When  they  got  the  waggin  all  together,  they  har- 
nessed in  the  old  hoss  and  hitched  him  to  the  chimney. 
When  this  was  done,  they  came  down  and  waited  for  the 
farmer  to  come  back. 

"It  was  a  monster  funny  sight  to  see  that  team  up  there 
on  the  roof  of  the  old  State  House.  Folks  stopped  and 
stared  at  the  team,  and  then  pinched  themselves  to  see  if 
they  was  awake  or  asleep  and  dreamin'.  A  crowd  begun 
to  gather  purty  soon. 

"The  farmer  had  considerable  business  to  'tend  to,  and 
he  jest  stepped  into  a  saloon  and  bought  him  a  pint  of 
somethin'  or  other,  and  he  nipped  away  at  that  now  and 
then.  When  he  got  through  with  his  business  he  was 
feelin'  jest  a  little  bit  how-come-you-so.  Then  he  started 
for  his  team. 

"When  he  got  long  to  the  fence  there  was  a  crowd  of 
student  fellers  and  other  folks,  but  not  a  sign  of  his 
team  could  that  farmer  see.  He  began  to  think  the  hoss 


126         Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla. 

had  got  unhitched  and  wandered  off,  so  he  asked  some  of 
the  crowd  if  they'd  seen  the  team. 

"One  of  them  student  fellers  said  he  had  seen  the  hoss 
wanderin'  off  by  hisself  goin'  over  toward  the  State 
House.  Then  the  farmer  he  happened  to  look  up  the 
way  all  them  laughin'  folks  was  lookin'  and  he  saw  his 
team." 

Uncle  Asa  slapped  his  knee  and  laughed  outright. 

"B'gosh !"  he  cried,  "I  don't  s'pose  that  farmer  ever 
was  so  'stonished  before  in  all  his  nateral  life.  He  gasped 
for  breath,  rubbed  his  eyes,  staggered  backward,  and  set 
right  down  on  the  ground.  He  couldn't  b'lieve  his  eyes. 

"  'Say,'  he  asked,  'do  any  of  you  folks  see  a  hoss  and 
waggin  up  there  on  top  of  the  State  House?  or  be  I 
twisted  ?' 

"When  he  was  satisfied  that  the  team  was  there,  he  was 
more  'stonished  than  ever,  and  his  'stonishment  increased. 
He  hadn't  never  known  his  hoss  to  climb  up  on  roofs  be- 
fore, and  he  kinder  wondered  if  the  old  nag  had  been 
drinkin',  too.  Them  student  fellers  laughed  and  joked 
the  farmer,  and  all  the  street  urchins  guyed  him.  Arter 
a  while  he  rekivered  enough  to  get  up  and  go  after  his 
team,  but  he  had  to  pay  some  men  a  good  big  pile  to  get 
it  down  for  him,  and  they  had  an  awful  time  with  the 
hoss,  for,  though  the  animal  had  walked  up  stairs  all 
right,  it  didn't  want  to  go  down.  They  had  to  back  the 
nag  down,  and  it  was  night  before  the  farmer  got  started 
for  home.  He  knew  his  wife'd  give  it  to  him  for  stayin* 
in  town  all  that  time,  and  he  swore  off  takin'  anything  in 
the  way  of  strong  drink  that  very  day.  He  ain't  never 
touched  a  thing  but  cider  sence." 

Aunt  Priscilla  looked  sharply  at  her  husband. 

"How'd  you  know  all  about  this,  father?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  I  heard  of  it,"  answered  the  farmer,  evasively. 

"Who  was  the  man?" 


Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla.         127 

"I  don't  jest  exactly  remember  what  his  name  was 
now,"  said  the  old  fellow,  hastily  rising.  "It's  time  to  go 
to  bed,  mother." 

"How  long  ago  did  this  happen,  father?"  persisted  his 
•wife. 

"Quite  a  while — quite  a  while.  Don't  remember  jest 
the  number  of  years.  I'm  goin'  to  bed." 

"Your  memory's  gittin'  shorter  and  shorter.  It's  re- 
markable how  short  it  is  when  you  don't  want  to  remem- 
ber a  p'int." 

Uncle  Asa  paid  no  attention  to  this  shot,  but  put  his 
pipe  on  the  mantel,  made  sure  the  door  was  locked,  wound 
.  up  the  clock,  looked  after  the  fire,  and  then  picked  up  the 
lamp. 

At  that  moment  he  paused,  lamp  in  hand,  and  listened. 

There  was  a  sound  of  sleigh  bells. 

"Wonder  who  that  is,"  he  speculated.  "This  last 
snow's  made  powerful  fine  slippin'." 

Aunt  Priscilla  rolled  up  her  knitting. 

"Somebody's  been  to  town,  that's  all,"  she  said. 

"Hark!" 

There  was  a  sound  of  youthful  voices  singing  sweetly 
in  the  clear  night  air. 

"Sounds  like  there  was  a  lot  of  'em,"  said  Uncle  Asa. 
"Young  folks  do  have  good  times,  mother.  We  was 
young  ourselves  once." 

"Yes,"  said  his  wife,  "but  young  folks  never  went  sky- 
larkin'  in  my  day  the  way  they  do  now." 

"Keep  still,  mother !  I  really  believe  somebody's  drove 
into  our  yard." 

"Mercy  sakes!     At  this  time  of  night!     It  can't  be!" 

"I'm  sure  of  it !  Hear  them  voices !  There's  lots  of 
Jem.  What  can  they  want?" 

There  was  a  rap  on  the  door.  Uncle  Asa  put  down  the 
lamp,  and  Aunt  Priscilla  was  in  a  flutter  of  excitement. 


Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla. 

As  soon  as  possible,  the  old  man  opened  the  door,  and 
then  into  the  room  swarmed  a  flock  of  rosy-cheeked  girls 
and  laughing  lads. 

"Good  gracious !"  cried  Aunt  Priscilla,  holding  up  both 
hands  in  amazement. 

"Hey!  hey!  what's  this  mean?"  gasped  Uncle  Asa, 
nearly  dropping  the  lamp,  which  he  still  held  in  his  hand. 

"Hello,  Uncle  Asa!"  called  Paul  Pierson,  cheerily. 
"Thought  we'd  call  and  see  you." 

"So  we  called,  don't  you  see,"  laughed  Ben  Halliday. 

"Come  in  everybody,"  invited  Jack  Diamond,  holding 
the  door  open. 

"My  clean  floor!"  faintly  murmured  the  farmer's  wife. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  persisted  the  astounded  farmer. 

"It's  a  little  surprise  party,  that's  all,"  explained  Pier- 
son.  "We  knew  you  would  be  glad  to  see  us,  uncle." 

"But  we — we  ain't  prepared." 

"Oh,  never  mind  that.  We're  not  fussy.  We'll  make 
ourselves  at  home." 

"I  should  say  so !  I  should  say  so !  But,  really,  young 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  I  can't " 

"Now  don't  say  that,"  cut  in  Paul.  "We  know  you  are 
delighted  to  see  us.  We  want  a  place  to  stand  our  horses, 
and  then  we'll  dt>  what  we  can  to  eat  up  your  best  apples 
and  drink  a  barrel  or  two  of  your  good  cider." 

"Apples  and  cider!"  cried  one  of  the  girls.  "How 
jolly !" 

Uncle  Asa  groaned. 

"Oh,  yes!"  he  said.  "It's  darn  jolly!  But  I  won't 
have  it,  I  tell  you.  I  refuse  to  be  imposed  upon  like " 

"Now,  uncle,"  said  Pierson,  "don't  be  foolish.  If  you 
are,  I'll  feel  it  my  duty  to  tell  Aunt  Priscilla  all  about  that 
time  you  found  your  team  on  the  top  of  the  State  House 
in  New  Haven,  and " 

"  'Sh !"  gasped  the  old  farmer,  in  consternation.   "How 


Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla.        129 

in  the  world  do  you  know  anything  about  that?  It  was 
before  your  time." 

"Oh,  but  I  know  all  about  it,  and " 

"I  wouldn't  have  mother  know  that  joke  was  played 
on  me  for  the  world.  I'd  never  hear  the  last  of  it  as 
long  as  I  lived." 

This  talk  had  been  made  aside,  so  the  farmer's  wife 
had  not  heard  what  was  said.  Paul  chuckled  with  satis- 
faction, for  he  saw  he  had  the  old  fellow  at  an  advan- 
tage. 

"We  won't  say  a  word  about  it,  uncle,"  he  promised. 
"All  we  want  is  some  apples  and  cider,  and,  in  return, 
we'll  sing  you  some  songs  and  do  our  best  to  liven  you 
up.  It's  just  what  you  need,  Uncle  Asa.  The  blood  is 
running  slow  in  your  veins,  and  it  should  be  quickened." 

"Keep  still  about  that  joke,  and  I'll  do  what  I  can  for 
ye,"  promised  the  old  farmer.  "We  wasn't  expectin'  any- 
thing like  this,  so  we  can't  do  much ;  but  I  have  got  a  few 
apples  and  some  cider,  and  so " 

"That's  all  we  want,"  declared  Paul.  "Just  show  us 
where  we  can  stand  our  teams.  Oh,  you  won't  be  sorry 
we  called!" 

Aunt  Priscilla  was  so  overcome  that  she  could  not  say 
anything  further.  Her  husband  turned  to  her,  saying: 

"It  ain't  often  we  have  such  a  lot  of  jolly  young  folks 
visit  us,  mother,  so  I  vote  that  we  do  what  we  can  to 
entertain  'em.  You  look  out  for  the  gals,  and  I'll  take 
keer  of  their  fellers." 

The  good  woman  saw  her  husband  had  capitulated,  so 
she  did  not  attempt  to  hold  out  longer. 

"Come  right  in,  gals,"  she  said,  beginning  to  smile. 
"If  you'd  let  us  known  you  was  comin'  we  could  have 
made  it  pleasanter,  but  we'll  do  our  best  now." 

She  urged  them  to  take  off  their  wraps,  which  they 
did.  One  of  the  lads  found  the  wood  and  piled  a  fresK 


130        Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla. 

lot  upon  the  open  fire,  which  quickly  blazed  up  in  a  merry 
manner. 

In  the  meantime,  having  lighted  his  lantern,  Uncle  Asa 
went  out  with  the  boys  to  care  for  their  teams.  It  was 
nearly  half  an  hour  before  they  returned,  and  by  that 
time  the  girls  were  well  acquainted  with  Aunt  Priscilla. 

Then  came  apples  and  cider,  and  joking  and  laughter. 
The  old  farmhouse  echoed  to  such  merry  sounds  as  it  had 
not  heard  before  in  years. 

Sport  Harris  was  one  of  the  party.  He  had  been 
brought  into  it  by  one  of  the  girls,  and,  rather  than  spoil 
a  good  time,  those  who  knew  just  what  he  was  did  not 
object  and  refuse  to  take  him  along. 

Harris  kept  pretty  still,  and  the  others  made  merry  the 
same  as  if  he  were  not  present. 

"These  Baldwins  are  particularly  fine,"  declared  Uncle 
Asa,  as  he  brought  a  big  basket  of  his  best  apples  out  of 
the  cellar,  "but  the  gals  may  like  them  Tompkins  sweetin's 
best.  Gals  alwus  like  sweet  things,  you  know.  Mother 
was  a  gal  once,  and  she  took  to  me  because " 

"Now,  father,  don't  be  silly !"  protested  his  wife,  while 
the  old  fellow  slapped  his  knee  and  chuckled. 

The  girls  gathered  about  Uncle  Asa  and  chatted  mer- 
rily with  him  while  they  ate  apples.  Fanny  Darling  de- 
clared he  was  a  dear  old  boy,  and  said  Aunt  Priscilla 
must  have  known  a  good  thing  when  she  saw  it.  This 
pleased  the  farmer,  and  he  chucked  Fanny  under  the  chin. 
Under  the  warming  influence  of  the  cider  he  did  his  best 
to  flirt  with  her,  which  amused  his  wife. 

Browning  and  Diamond  gave  the  farmer's  wife  much 
of  their  attention.  The  big  fellow  fairly  outdid  himself, 
and  he  finally  succeeded  in  getting  the  best  of  Jack  in  the 
contest  for  her  favors. 

But  then  Frank  Merriwell  stepped  in,  and  it  was  not 
five  minutes  before  he  had  won  Aunt  Priscilla's  heart 


Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla.        131 

completely.  He  counted  apple  seeds  with  her  and  drank 
to  her  health  and  happiness.  Not  to  be  outdone  by 
Frank,  Fanny  counted  apple  seeds  with  Uncle  Asa. 

"Odd  for  a  kiss  and  even  for  a  miss,"  she  cried. 

It  came  odd  and  before  he  knew  it  she  had  kissed  him 
on  the  cheek. 

"Ain't  goin'  to  wash  my  face  for  a  week,"  laughed  the 
old  man.  "I'll  keep  that  as  long  as  I  can.  Now,  don't 
go  to  bein'  jealous,  mother!  You'll  have  all  the  young 
folks  laughin'  at  you  if  you  shake  your  head  at  me  and 
scowl  like  that.  Mother  never  could  bear  to  see  me  pay- 
in'  any  'tention  to  the  gals,"  he  chuckled.  "She  knows 
I'm  a  fascinatin'  old  dandy,  and  she's  afraid  some  pretty 
gal  will  steal  me." 

"Now,  don't  you  flatter  yourself,  father,"  flung  back 
Aunt  Priscilla.  "I  might  be  able  to  catch  a  young  man 
myself." 

"You  have  captured  one  already,"  declared  Frank. 

Jack  Diamond  prowled  around  the  house,  and  no  one 
paid  any  attention  to  him. 

Frank  proposed  a  song,  and  all  joined  in  merrily. 

Song  followed  song. 

Suddenly  a  strange  sound  broke  on  their  ears. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  cat  ?"  cried  five  or  six. 

But  the  sound  suddenly  changed,  and  they  realized 
some  one  had  been  putting  a  fiddle  in  tune.  Now  the 
rollicking  strains  of  the  "Devil's  Dream"  filled  the  rooms. 

"Who's  playing?"  was  the  cry. 

Diamond  stalked  in  from  another  room,  with  an  old 
violin  under  his  chin,  and  the  bow  was  literally  dancing 
Over  the  strings. 

"Good!  good!"  cried  many  voices. 

Fanny  Darling  could  not  keep  still.  She  caught  hold 
of  Uncle  Asa  and  waltzed  him  around  the  room  till  he 
v/as  giddy  and  out  of  breath. 


132        Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla. 

"I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed,  father — you,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  church !"  said  his  wife,  reprovingly. 

"I  ain't  a  darn  bit  ashamed!"  he  cried,  rather  warmly. 
"David  danced,  and  I  ain't  no  better  than  David." 

Jack  played  "The  Last  Rose  of  Summer,"  and  ren- 
dered it  beautifully,  but  it  brought  murmurs  of  protest. 

"Don't  play  anything  sad!"  begged  Fanny  Darling. 
"Sadness  comes  to-morrow.  Let's  all  be  happy  and  gay 
to-night." 

"I  didn't  suppose  you  wanted  me  to  play  nothing  but 
dance  tunes,"  said  Jack. 

"Dance  tunes  are  what  we  want  now.  The  livelier  they 
are  the  better  they  will  be." 

"Why  not  have  a  dance?"  proposed  Frank  Merriwell. 

There  was  a  shout  of  approval. 

Uncle  Asa  looked  doubtful,  and  Aunt  Priscilla  was 
filled  with  dismay. 

"Ain't  no  room  to  dance  here,"  said  the  farmer. 

"But  there  is  room  out  on  your  stable  floor,"  said 
Frank.  "We  will  go  out  there  and  have  a  jolly  good 
dance." 

This  was  received  with  cries  of  delight. 

Uncle  Asa  attempted  to  protest,  but  Paul  Pierson  was 
at  his  elbow,  saying: 

"If  we  don't  dance,  we  may  get  to  telling  stories.  If 
we  tell  stories,  I  may  forget  and  tell  about  the  time  you 
found  your  team  on  the  top  of  the  New  Haven  State 
House." 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Uncle  Asa — "go  ahead  and  dance  in 
the  barn.  I  don't  care." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  DANCE  IN   THE  BARN. 

Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla  refused  to  have  anything 
at  all  to  do  with  the  dance.  They  refused  to  go  into  the 
barn,  but  they  furnished  the  merry  party  with  two  lan- 
terns and  two  lamps,  and  told  them  to  go  on  and  dance. 

"Take  keer  not  to  set  the  barn  on  fire,"  warned  Uncle 
Asa.  "I'm  goin'  to  build  a  new  one  next  summer,  but  I 
don't  care  to  have  the  old  one  burned  down." 

"We  will  be  careful,"  assured  Frank  Merriwell. 
"Don't  have  any  fear  about  that.  I  will  assume  all  re- 
sponsibility. If  your  barn  burns,  Uncle  Asa,  I'll  pay  for 
the  building  of  a  new  one." 

"If  I  warn't  a  church  member,  I'd  go  out  and  have  a 
good  time  with  ye,"  declared  the  farmer;  "but  I  don't 
dare  do  it  now.  It  would  raise  a  scandal." 

"Goodness,  yes !"  exclaimed  his  wife.  "Deacon  Tucker 
would  have  us  pulled  up  for  it.  We'll  stay  right  in  the 
house,  father." 

Out  to  the  big  barn  went  the  laughing  boys  and  girls. 
They  swept  the  wide  floor  clean,  hung  up  the  lanterns  and 
placed  the  lamps  where  they  seemed  all  right. 

Then  Diamond  mounted  to  a  seat  on  a  high  wooden 
block,  tuned  up  the  old  fiddle  again,  and  called : 

"Select  your  partners  for  the  first  waltz." 

A  moment  later  the  fiddle  began  to  talk,  and  the  dancers 
were  whirling  merrily  on  the  floor. 

Since  arriving  at  Uncle  Asa's,  the  girl  who  came  with 
Harris  had  seemed  to  shun  him,  as  if  she  were  offended, 
and  it  happened  that  Sport  was  left  without  a  partner. 
He  looked  on  sullenly,  chewing  his  tongue.  All  the 


134  The  Dance  in  the  Barn. 

others  were  having  a  good  time,  but  he  was  not  enjoying 
it  much.     He  envied  them. 

Frank  was  waltzing  with  Fanny  Darling,  and  they  were 
the  most  graceful  couple  on  the  floor.  With  a  sneer  on 
his  face,  Harris  kept  his  eyes  upon  them.  He  saw  Frank 
bend  his  head  and  whisper  something  in  Fanny's  ear,  saw 
her  blush  and  press  her  cheek  against  Frank's  shoulder. 

"Oh!"  grated  Harris;  "that  Merriwell  is  the  dickens 
with  the  girls.  I  can't  understand  why  all  of  them  take 
to  him.  Now  that  girl  with  him  is  a  peach.  She  is  the 
liveliest  girl  in  the  party.  If  I  could  catch  her — but  I 
can't!  I'd  like  to  cut  Merriwell  out.  Wouldn't  that  be 
great !" 

He  gloated  over  the  thought. 

"There's  nothing  like  trying,"  was  his  final  decision. 
"I'll  wager  something  Fanny  Darling  doesn't  know  about 
Merriwell's  other  girls.  If  some  one  were  to  tell  her — • 
I'll  try  it." 

Then  he  watched  for  his  chance  to  reach  Fanny. 
'  In  the  meantime  Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla  were 
growing  restless  in  the  house.  They  could  hear  the 
sound  of  the  fiddle,  and  that  was  quite  enough  to  warm 
the  blood  in  their  old  veins.  Uncle  Asa  took  another  big 
drink  of  cider,  going  into  the  cellar  for  a  special  "brand," 
which  he  had  not  brought  forth  for  the  young  folks. 
That  cider  was  aged,  and  it  had  been  kept  in  a  whiskey 
barrel.  As  Uncle  Asa  himself  declared,  "There  was  an 
all-fired  kick  to  it." 

The  cider  warmed  the  old  man  more  than  ever.  He 
could  not  keep  still. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  "it  seems  to  me  I'd  better  go  out 
there  and  look  out  for  them  lights." 

"Now,  father,  you  had  better  stay  away." 

"Them  young  folks  are  monst'rus  careless  sometimes. 


The  Dance  in  the  Barn.  135 

We  don't  want  to  get  burned  out  of  house  and  home  to- 
night." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  came  to  consent  to  such  doin's, 
father.  If  it  gets  out,  there'll  be  a  scandal  in  the  church. 
Deacon  Tucker  is  powerful  strait-laced." 

"Deacon  Tucker  is  an  old  busybody !"  said  Asa,  rather 
warmly.  "If  he'd  keep  that  long  nose  of  his  out  of  other 
folks'  business  it'd  be  a  mighty  fine  thing." 

"Be  careful,  father !  You  shouldn't  talk  about  a  brother 
in  that  way." 

"I  don't  care — it's  the  truth." 

Uncle  Asa  was  like  a  mettlesome  colt.  He  absolutely 
could  not  keep  still.  He  went  to  the  window  and  looked 
out  toward  the  barn. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  "I  can't  stand  this.  Think  of  all 
them  lights  out  there.  If  one  of  'em  should  be  upsot. 
I'm  goin'  out  there!" 

"Then  you  wait  a  minute  till  I  git  my  shawl." 

"Why,  what  be  you  goin'  to  do?" 

"Asa  Stebbins,  do  you  think  I'm  a  fool  ?" 

"No,  mother — no,  no!" 

"Well,  I'm  not  going  to  let  you  go  friskin'  round 
among  them  young  gals  without  I'm  on  hand  to  look  after 
you." 

Then  they  looked  at  each  other,  and  Asa  broke  into  a 
laugh. 

"Gracious,  mother!"  he  cried;  "I  do  believe  you  are 
jealous !  Well,  come  on." 

He  put  on  his  hat,  and  she  threw  a  shawl  over  her 
head.  Then  away  they  went  to  the  barn,  from  whence 
came  the  sound  of  merry  laughter  and  lively  music. 

The  dancers  were  whirling  on  the  floor  when  the  farmer 
and  his  wife  entered  the  barn  by  a  side  door  which  led  to 
another  door  that  looked  out  upon  the  floor.  This  second 


136  The  Dance  in  the  Barn. 

door  they  opened,  and  the  sight  they  beheld  caused  their 
old  eyes  to  sparkle. 

"If  we  was  young  again,  I'd  never  mind  what  the 
church  said,"  murmured  the  farmer,  in  the  ear  of  his 
good  wife. 

"Nor  I,  Asa — nor  I,"  she  murmured,  in  return.  He 
rubbed  his  hands  together. 

"It's  a  good  sight  to  see,  now  ain't  it,  mother?  It's 
better  than  medicine.  Seems  to  me  the  rheumatism  thatis 
been  botherin'  me  all  winter  has  completely  left.  I  tell 
you,  mother,  we've  made  a  mistake  by  not  havin'  more 
young  folks  round  us  these  last  years.  Young  folks  keep 
old  folks  from  growin'  old,  and  you  know  anybody's  jest 
as  old  as  they  feel  and  no  older." 

"But  the  way  you  act  and  talk,  Asa,  I  should  think  you 
warn't  more'n  thirty." 

"Twenty,  mother — not  a  day  over  twenty.  And  you're 
lookin'  younger  and  handsomer  to-night  than  you  have 
before  for  ten  years.  I'll  bet  the  best  cow  I've  got  that 
we  can  go  on  there  and  show  them  youngsters  some  capers 
that  will  open  their  eyes." 

"Don't  talk  of  it,  father.     Think  of  Deacon  Tucker." 

"Hang  Deacon  Tucker!  He's  an  old  hypocrite,  any- 
how!" 

"Why,  father!" 

"Come  on,  Priscilla!" 

She  hesitated. 

At  that  moment  Frank  and  Fanny  Darling  saw  them 
there  in  the  door.  A  word  passed  between  Frank  and 
Fanny,  and,  a  moment  later,  they  were  besieging  the  old 
folks. 

"Come,  Uncle  Asa!"  cried  Fanny;  "you  must  dance 
with  me." 

"And  you  will  not  refuse  to  dance  with  me,  Aunt  Pris- 


The  Dance  in  the  Barn.  137 

cilia — I  know  you  won't,"  said  Frank,  in  his  most  per- 
suasive manner. 

The  old  farmer  and  his  good  wife  cast  one  last  doubt- 
ful glance  at  each  other. 

"Deacon  Tucker  will  say "  began  Priscilla. 

"I  don't  care  a  rap  what  Deacon  Tucker  says !"  ex- 
ploded the  farmer.  "If  he  says  too  much  to  me,  I'll 
punch  his  head !  Come  on,  Priscilla !" 

Then,  laughing  gayly,  Frank  and  Fanny  drew  them 
upon  the  floor  and  whirled  them  away  to  the  enlivening 
strains  of  music. 

Sport  Harris  had  been  watching  every  move. 

"That's  one  way  that  Merriwell  makes  himself  popu- 
lar," he  muttered.  "He  will  fool  around  with  old  folks  just 
as  quick  as  with  young  people,  and  he  always  seems  to 
be  laughing.  How  I  hate  that  laugh!  Sometime  I'll 
make  him  laugh  out  of  the  other  side  of  his  mouth." 

Bending  over  the  old  violin,  Jack  sawed  away  till  the 
entire  party  was  tired  enough  to  stop. 

As  soon  as  the  dance  was  over,  the  boys  and  girls  gath- 
ered around  Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla  and  congratu- 
lated them  on  the  graceful  manner  in  which  they  had 
acquitted  themselves. 

"Oh,  that  was  nothing!"  declared  the  old  man,  puffing 
for  breath.  "Wait  till  we  get  our  wind,  and  we'll  show 
you  some  quirks  you  never  saw  before.  Hey,  mother?" 

"We  might,  but  it's  sure  to  get  to  the  ears  of  Deacon 
Tucker,  and " 

"Old  Nick  take  the  ears  of  Deacon  Tucker!  If  you 
say  Deacon  Tucker  to  me  again  to-night,  I'll  do  somethin' 
that'll  be  sure  to  get  me  churched !" 

After  a  short  pause,  Jack  struck  up  again,  and  the  aged 
couple  had  the  entire  floor  to  show  the  young  folks  how 
dancing  was  done  in  their  day.  They  whirled  about  with 
the  old  heel-and-toe,  bowed  low,  whirled  and  bowed  again 


138  The  Dance  in  the  Barn. 

and  again,  while  every  evolution  was  received  with  bursts 
of  applause. 

When  the  lads  and  lassies  could  remain  quiet  no  longer 
they  again  swarmed  onto  the  floor,  and  the  merry  dance 
continued. 

The  opportunity  Harris  sought  came  at  last.  He  found 
Fanny  Darling  alone. 

With  all  the  politeness  he  could  command,  Harris  ap- 
proached the  girl. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Darling,  I  wish  to  compliment 
you  on  your  dancing.  I  think  you  are  the  most  graceful 
dancer  I  have  ever  seen." 

"Thank  you." 

Fanny  said  it  shortly.  There  was  something  about  this 
fellow  that  she  did  not  like. 

"But  why  do  you  dance  with  that  fellow  Merriwell  all 
the  time?"  asked  Sport. 

"I  do  not  dance  with  him  all  the  time." 

"Nearly  all  the  time." 

"Besides,  I  don't  know  why  you  should  call  him  'that 
fellow.' " 

Harris  smiled  in  a  significant  manner. 

"You  do  not  know  him  as  well  as  I  know  him,"  he 
said,  insinuatingly. 

"Why  don't  you  dance?" 

"I  have  not  danced  yet  because  I  haven't  had  the  op- 
portunity to  dance  with  the  one  I  most  desired." 

"I  am  sorry." 

Fanny  made  a  move  to  pass  him,  but  he  placed  himself 
directly  in  front  of  her. 

"You  are  the  one  I  wish  to  dance  with,  Miss  Darling," 
he  said.  "You  are  so  graceful.  I  will  show  you  I  am 
quite  as  good  a  dancer  as  Merriwell,  though  I  may  not 
be  able  to  say  so  many  soft  things." 

Her  face  flushed. 


The  Dance  in  the  Barn.  139 

"I  don't  think  I  care  to  dance  with  you,  sir,"  she  said. 

That  brought  the  color  to  Harris'  face. 

"Don't  care  to  dance  with  me?"  he  hoarsely  muttered. 
"Why  not?" 

"Is  it  necessary  I  should  give  reasons?" 

"You  might  do  that  much,  at  least." 

"Then  I  will.  I  do  not  like  the  manner  in  which  you 
spoke  of  Mr.  Merriwell  as  'that  fellow.'  Frank  Merri- 
well is  a  gentleman." 

"So  that  is  it!"  sneered  Sport.  "I  knew  I  was  right 
when  I  said  you  did  not  know  him  very  well." 

"By  that  I  presume  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  he  is 
not  a  gentleman?" 

"I  don't  care  to  say  anything  more." 

"You  have  said  quite  enough!  I  am  sure  he  is  too 
much  of  a  gentleman  to  make  insinuations  against  any 
other  fellow  behind  that  person's  back." 

"Oh,  I  understand  what  you  mean !"  grated  Harris. 

"I  trust  you  do !" 

"I  understand  it,  and  now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  some- 
thing more  about  Mr.  Merriwell." 

"I  do  not  care  to  listen." 

"You  must !"  hissed  Sport,  hurriedly.  "I  know  he  has 
been  making  love  to  you.  He  is  trying  to  fool  you  into 
believing  that  he  really  cares  for  you.  Don't  take  any 
stock  in  him.  Already  he  is  engaged  to  two  girls.  One 
of  them,  Inza  Burrage,  was  in  New  Haven  last  fall. 
Any  of  the  fellows  can  tell  you  about  her.  The  other  one 
is  down  in  Virginia  somewhere.  That  is  the  kind  of  a 
double-faced  sneak  Frank  Merriwell  is!" 

"Mr.  Harris,"  said  Fanny,  coldly,  "you  have  quite  over- 
shot the  mark.  I  know  all  about  Inza  Burrage  and  Elsie 
Bellwood." 

"You  do  know — how?" 


140  The  Dance  in  the  Barn. 

"Mr.  Merriwell  told  me  about  them,  like  the  honorable 
fellow  that  he  is." 

"Told  you  he  was  engaged  to  them  both?" 

"No,  he  is  engaged  to  neither  of  them,  although  he 
may  be  sometime." 

A  sneer  curled  Sport's  lips. 

"So  that  is  what  he  told  you!  Well,  Frank  Merriwell 
is  showing  himself  a  liar,  as  well  as  a  hypocrite!" 

A  hand  fell  on  Harris'  shoulder. 

"Were  you  speaking  of  me?"  said  the  voice  of  Merri- 
well, himself.  "I  fancied  I  heard  my  name." 

Harris  whirled.  Frank  was  looking  him  straight  in 
the  eyes. 

"Yes,"  answered  Sport,  with  husky  defiance,  resolved 
not  to  show  the  white  feather  before  the  girl,  "I  was 
speaking  of  you,  sir." 

"What  did  you  say?  Do  you  mind  repeating  your 
words?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  Take  your  hand  from  my  shoulder, 
and  I  will  repeat  them." 

Frank's  hand  dropped. 

In  a  moment  Fanny  stepped  between  them. 

"Not  here — not  now !"  she  panted.  "You  must  not 
fight  here!  Think — think  what  it  would  mean!  It 
would  ruin  the  party.  You  have  better  judgment  than 
that,  Frank." 

Frank  bowed. 

"We  will  not  fight  here  and  now,"  he  said.  "Perhaps 
Mr.  Harris  will  repeat  his  words  later  and  elsewhere." 

"I  shall  be  pleased  to  do  so,"  said  Harris. 

Fanny  took  Frank's  arm,  and  they  walked  away,  leav- 
ing Sport  to  eat  his  heart  out  with  bitter  fury. 

"Oh,  how  can  I  strike  him?"  muttered  Harris.  "I 
have  tried  to  hurt  him  by  telling  that  he  was  drunk  in 
Jackson's  saloon,  but  no  one  seems  to  believe  it.  There 


The  Dance  in  the  Barn.  141 

must  be  a  way  to  get  at  him.  When  I  find  it,  I  will  get 
at  him  hard.  I  hate  him  so  much  that  I  could  kill  him  1 
Yes,  I  could  kill  him !" 

His  face  was  black  with  the  stormcloud  of  passion. 
All  the  evil  in  his  nature  had  been  aroused,  and,  at  that 
moment,  the  good  which  dwells  within  the  breast  of  the 
lowest  human  being  had  been  crushed  down  and  almost 
obliterated  by  the  bad  in  Harris. 

He  made  no  further  attempt  to  dance,  but  remained  by 
himself,  speaking  to  no  one.  He  was  plotting,  plotting, 
plotting. 

For  more  than  an  hour  the  dance  continued.  Uncle 
Asa  and  his  wife  danced  several  times,  but  they  found 
it  tiresome  after  a  while,  and  they  became  content  to  sit 
side  by  side,  holding  each  other's  hand  and  looking  on. 
Their  faces  beamed  with  pleasure. 

Big  Bruce  Browning  danced  three  times,  which  was 
a  real  marvel.  He  fairly  outdid  himself  in  gallantry. 

Diamond  played  all  the  tunes  he  knew,  and  then  played 
them  over  and  over.  Some  of  the  dancers  sang  to  the 
music. 

But  the  evening  could  not  last  forever,  even  though 
Fanny  Darling  wished  that  it  might.  The  time  came  at 
last  when  Diamond  broke  his  E-string  and  found  he 
could  not  splice  it  out.  Then  the  dance  was  over,  and  the 
boys  and  girls  returned  to  the  house. 

"Uncle  Asa,"  said  Paul  Pierson,  "we  have  enjoyed  our- 
selves more  than  we  can  tell,  and  so  I  am  not  going  to  say 
another  word  about " 

Here  the  farmer  made  some  warning  gestures  behind 
his  wife's  back,  and,  laughing  heartily,  Paul  continued : 

"No,  I'll  not  say  another  word  about  anything.  You 
need  not  be  afraid  of  that." 

"Thankee — thankee  kindly,"  said  Uncle  Asa.  "It  has 
been  a  pleasant  evenin'  for  mother  and  me.  We  won't 


142  The  Dance  in  the  Barn. 

fergit  it  soon,  and  we've  made  a  diskivery.  We  have  dis- 
kivered  that  it's  better  to  have  young  folks  visit  us  once 
in  a  while  than  it  is  to  take  patent  medicine.  I've  been 
pourin'  down  stuff  to  cure  the  rheumatism  and  rubbin'  on 
liniment,  but  it  ain't  done  half  so  much  good  as  you 
youngsters  have  done  for  me  to-night.  Just  you  come 
again  when  you  feel  like  it,  and  you  may  be  mortal  sure 
Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla  will  be  glad  to  see  ye." 

"That's  so,"  said  his  wife.  "And  we  don't  care  very 
much  what  Deacon  Tucker  says  about  it,  either." 

"Gol  darn  Deacon  Tucker,"  shot  forth  the  farmer.  "If 
he  opens  his  trap  to  me,  I'll  tell  him  what  I  think  of  him !" 

"Father,"  said  Priscilla,  "hadn't  you  better  bring  up  a 
little  more  cider  before  they  go?  They'll  want  one  more 
sip,  and  mebbe  they'll  want  some  apples  to  take  with 
them." 

"If  they  want  a  bushel  of  apples  apiece  they  shall  have 
them,  and  I  don't  keer  if  they  drink  up  all  the  cider  in  the 
cellar." 

Down  the  stairs  went  the  old  man,  accompanied  by  two 
of  the  boys. 

The  girls  began  to  get  on  their  wraps. 

"Where  is  Frank  Merriwell?"  asked  somebody. 

No  one  seemed  to  know. 

One  of  the  boys  stepped  outside  the  house.  A  moment 
later  he  excitedly  shouted : 

"Fire!  fire!— the  barn  is  on  fire!" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  FIRE   IN    THE   BARN. 

There  were  screams  of  surprise  and  fear,  and  the  boys 
and  girls  rushed  out  of  doors. 

A  red  glow  showed  through  the  cracks  of  the  great 
barn. 

In  the  excitement  no  one  missed  Fanny  Darling. 

Fanny  had  seen  Frank  and  Harris  quietly  leave  the 
party  after  all  were  in  the  house  and  slip  out.  She  felt 
sure  they  were  going  somewhere  to  fight. 

As  soon  as  she  could  get  away  without  attracting  at- 
tention, Fanny  followed. 

Outside  the  house  she  paused.  Where  had  they  gone? 
The  horses  had  not  been  taken  into  the  barn,  but  were 
standing  in  a  long  shed  back  of  the  house. 

She  hurried  there,  but  did  not  find  the  ones  she  was 
seeking. 

"Frank  can  whip  him,"  thought  Fanny;  "but  they 
must  not  fight  and  spoil  everything  now  we  have  had 
such  a  good  time." 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  listening.  The  horses  in  the 
shed  stamped  impatiently,  and  then 

Was  that  a  cry? 

The  sound  seemed  to  come  from  the  barn.  A  sudden 
chill  seized  the  girl's  heart.  It  seemed  that  fingers  of  ice 
closed  on  her  heartstrings.  A  thrill  of  horror  ran  over 
her,  and  she  stood  spellbound.  A  conviction  that  some 
frightful  thing  had  happened  came  upon  her  overwhelm- 
ingly. 

Some  moments  she  stood  thus,  and  then  she  did  some- 


144  The  Fire  in  the  Barn. 

thing  few  girls  would  have  dared  to  do.    She  hurried 
toward  the  barn  and  entered  it — alone ! 

The  moment  she  opened  the  door  a  smell  of  smoke  came 
to  her  nostrils.  That  caused  her  to  halt  irresolutely.  If 
the  barn  was  afire,  was  it  not  her  duty  to  run  to  the  house 
and  give  the  alarm  ? 

A  reddish  glow  showed  faintly  before  her,  and  in  the 
midst  of  it  she  saw  a  crouching  human  figure  that  came 
toward  her. 

"Frank!  Frank!"  she  called,  starting  forward. 

The  door  closed  behind  her. 

There  was  a  startled  exclamation,  and  that  crouching 
figure  came  at  her  with  a  rush,  clutched  her,  held  her. 

"Miss  Darling — here!"  grated  the  voice  of  Harris. 
"You  must  get  out  of  here !  The  barn  is  afire !" 

"Let  me  go!"  she  panted. 

"No !     Get  out— quick !" 

"Let  me  go!"  burst  from  her  lips.  "I  know  what  you 
have  done !  Let  me  go !  I  will  save  him !" 

"Don't  be  a  fool !"  snarled  the  fellow.  "The  barn  wa§ 
set  afire  in  some  manner  while  the  dance  was  going  on. 
It  will  burn  to  the  ground  in  a  few  minutes." 

"You  set  it !" 

"You  little  fool!  Why  should  I  do  such  a  thing? 
Don't  dare  say  that !" 

"I  do  dare !  I  saw  you  coming  here  with  Frank  Mer- 
riwell!  Where  is  he?" 

"I  don't  know.     I  see  I'll  have  to  carry  you  out." 

The  thought  that  Frank  was  somewhere  in  that  burn- 
ing barn  gave  her  such  strength  as  she  had  never  known 
before. 

"Wretch !"  she  cried. 

Then  she  struck  him  in  the  face,  using  all  her  strength. 
He  staggered  backward,  and  his  hold  was  broken.  With 


The  Fire  in  the  Barn.  145 

another  cry,  she  ran  toward  the  spot  whence  the  fire  was 
sending  out  that  red  glow. 

"Frank !"  she  gasped ;  "you  saved  me  once !  Heaven 
give  me  strength  to  save  you  now !" 

She  flung  open  a  door  and  was  nearly  stifled  by  a  cloud 
of  smoke.  The  fire  was  before  her.  In  the  midst  of  the 
smoke  and  flames  she  saw  a  groping  figure. 

Into  that  terrible  place  sprang  the  brave  girl.  She 
caught  hold  of  that  swaying  form,  half  supported  it, 
urged  it  toward  the  door.  The  smoke  followed  them  out 
through  the  door,  the  flames  sprang  higher,  and  the  barn 
was  doomed. 

Half  fainting,  Fanny  managed  to  keep  her  wits  about 
her  long  enough  to  find  the  second  door.  It  was 
fastened ! 

Then  she  realized  what  Harris  had  done.  Driven  mad 
by  the  fear  that  his  crime  would  be  exposed  by  her,  he 
had  closed  and  fastened  that  door,  shutting  them  in. 

Fanny  screamed  for  help.  Voices  answered  her. 
She  screamed  again,  and  then,  overcome  by  smoke,  she 
sank  upon  the  floor,  while  her  companion  helplessly 
leaned  against  the  fastened  door. 

But  those  cries  had  been  heard.  Bruce  Browning  was 
coming.  He  was  calling,  but  they  could  not  answer  'him 
now.  He  tore  open  the  door,  and  Merriwell  fell  into  his 
arms. 

As  Bruce  was  drawing  Frank  out  the  latter  faintly 
gasped  :  "Let  me  go !  Fanny — save  her !  She  is  there !" 

Fresh  air  came  in  by  the  door  beyond,  and  Frank  found 
some  of  his  strength.  He  pushed  Browning  off.  Bruce 
understood  him,  and  sought  for  the  girl.  He  found  her, 
lifted  her,  and  aided  them  both  to  reach  the  open  air. 

The  barn  burned  to  the  ground,  and,  although  it  made 
a  hot  fire,  the  boys  worked  like  heroes  to  save  the  house 


146  The  Fire  in  the  Barn. 

and  succeeded,  aided  by  the  wind,  which  blew  all  the 
sparks  away. 

Frank  had  recovered  and  led  them  in  the  work  of  fight- 
ing the  fire. 

When  it  was  all  over,  and  there  was  no  longer  any  dan 
ger  that  the  house  would  catch,  a  sad  and  sober  party 
gathered  in  the  old-fashioned  dining-room. 

"It's  a  judgment  upon  us,  mother!"  said  Uncle  Asa, 
sadly. 

"How  did  the  fire  catch,  Merry?"  asked  Diamond. 
"That  is  where  the  mystery  comes  in." 

"It  did  not  catch,"  declared  Frank.     "It  was  set !" 

Cries  of  astonishment  burst  from  the  listeners. 

"Who  would  do  such  a  thing?"  they  asked. 

"The  worst  enemy  I  have  in  the  world.  He  intended 
that  I  should  perish  in  that  fire,  but  I  was  saved  by  the 
heroism  of  Miss  Darling,  who  came  to  my  rescue.  But 
for  her,  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  escape,  for  I  was 
completely  bewildered  and  overcome  by  the  smoke." 

Then  Frank  told  of  his  trouble  with  Harris.  He  told 
how,  when  the  others  had  entered  the  house  after  the 
dance,  he  had  returned  to  the  barn  with  Harris. 

"I  think  he  really  meant  to  fight  me,"  said  Frank ;  "but 
I  was  foolish  enough  to  think  he  would  do  it  in  a  square 
manner.  I  gave  him  a  chance  by  being  off  my  guard  for 
a  moment,  and  he  caught  up  a  pitchfork  and  struck  me 
over  the  head  with  it.  I  partly  turned  and  saw  him  strike, 
but  I  could  not  dodge  the  blow.  It  must  have  knocked 
me  senseless.  I  believed  Harris  thought  he  had  killed  me, 
and  then,  overcome  by  terror,  he  set  the  fire  in  order  to 
cover  up  the  crime.  When  I  became  conscious  there  was 
fire  all  around  me,  and  I  was  stifling  with  smoke.  I  could 
not  find  my  way  out,  but  then  Miss  Darling  came  to  my 
rescue." 


The  Fire  in  the  Barn.  147 

The  boys  uttered  cries  of  anger. 

"Where  is  Harris?"  they  demanded. 

Harris  had  disappeared,  and  it  was  found  that  he  had 
cut  one  of  the  horses  free  and  escaped. 

"What  will  you  do,  Frank?"  asked  Jack  Diamond. 

"I  will  put  Harris  behind  the  bars !  He  shall  find  that 
I  am  aroused  at  last!" 

But  Merriwell  was  not  given  an  opportunity  to  punish 
Harris,  for  the  fellow  did  not  return  to  New  Haven. 
Officers  were  sent  out  after  him.  They  found  the  horse 
in  Derby,  and  it  was  evident  that  Harris  had  taken  a  train 
there.  The  officers  were  not  able  to  trace  him. 

Frank  always  declared  he  did  not  believe  Harris  really 
meant  to  kill  him  at  the  start,  but,  having  struck  him 
down  in  a  moment  of  mad  fury,  the  fellow  believed  he 
had  committed  murder.  Then  it  was  he  tried  to  hide  the 
crime  by  setting  fire  to  the  barn. 

To  Frank  it  seemed  that  the  most  dastardly  act  of  all 
was  the  fastening  of  the  door  behind  Fanny  Darling,  so 
that  she,  too,  was  shut  into  the  burning  barn. 

It  was  some  weeks  after  the  night  of  the  sleighing 
party  that  Uncle  Asa  and  Aunt  Priscilla  sat  alone  by 
their  fireside,  both  looking  sad  and  overburdened. 

"Next  Sunday,  father,"  said  the  good  wife,  "Deacon 
Tucker  is  going  to  prefer  charges  against  us  in  the 
church." 

Uncle  Asa's  under  lip  hung  down,  but  he  did  not 
say  a  word. 

"Brother  Tucker  says  we  were  punished  for  our  sin 
by  the  burning  of  our  barn,"  sighed  Aunt  Priscilla. 

"So  he's  goin'  to  try  to  punish  us  some  more  by  gettin' 
us  churched.  That's  what  I  call  true  brotherly  love, 
mother!" 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,    and    a    neighbor 


148  The  Fire  in  the  Barn. 

handed  in  a  letter,  saying  he  had  brought  it  along  from 
the  post  office. 

Uncle  Asa  got  out  his  spectacles,  rubbed  them' with 
his  handkerchief,  and  slowly  adjusted  them  to  his  nose. 

"Postmarked  New  Haven,"  he  said,  as  he  scanned  the 
envelope.  "Wonder  who  it's  from?  Smart  sort  of 
writin'  that." 

"Well,  why  don't  you  open  it  ?"  asked  his  wife,  sharply. 
"Don't  set  there  starin'  at  it  like  a  blind  owl !" 

The  envelope  was  opened,  and  Uncle  Asa  drew  out 
a  sheet  of  paper  and  a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars. 
For  some  time  he  sat  and  stared  in  speechless  amaze- 
ment at  that  check. 

"Good  gracious!"  cried  Aunt  Priscilla,  all  a-flutter. 
"Why  don't  you  read  the  letter!" 

So  Uncle  Asa  slowly  read : 

"DEAR  UNCLE  ASA  :  I  suppose  you  have  sometimes  felt 
resentful  toward  the  party  of  young  people  who  were 
responsible  for  the  burning  of  your  barn.  It  is  probable 
you  have  thought  they  did  not  care  for  your  loss,  but  you 
were  mistaken.  We  have  raised  five  hundred  dollars 
among  us  to  aid  you  in  building  a  new  barn,  and  I  send 
you  a  check  for  the  amount  with  this  letter.  Hoping  it 
will  be  sufficient  to  remunerate  you  for  your  loss,  I  re- 
main, Yours  respectfully, 

"FRANK  MERRIWELL." 

"By  gum!"  gasped  Uncle  Asa,  as  he  again  stared  at 
the  check.  "It's  too  good  to  be  true!" 

Aunt  Priscilla  began  to  cry  with  joy. 

"Oh,  father!"  she  said;  "it  don't  seem  that  the  Lord 
can  be  so  set  against  us,  no  matter  what  Deacon  Tucker 
says." 

"Darn  Deacon  Tucker!"  shouted  the  old  man,  jumping 
to  his  feet.  "He  kin  go  to  grass!  I'm  goin'  to  build 
a  new  barn,  and  when  I  get  it  built,  I'm  goin'  to  have 


The  Fire  in  the  Barn.  149 

them  same  young  fellers  and  gals  out  here  to  dance  in  it ! 
We'll  have  more  fun  than  we  did  before!  I  say  dam 
Deacon  Tucker!" 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

OUT    FOR     A     CRUISE. 

Spring ! 

All  through  the  long  winter  the  only  green  thing  to  be 
seen  on  the  Yale  campus  was  the  festive  freshman,  but 
now,  on  this  mild,  sunny  April  day,  which  was  a  promise 
of  June  soon  to  come,  a  few  blades  of  grass  were  strug- 
gling to  appear. 

It  was  a  day  to  bring  everybody  out.  For  the  first 
time  one  could  realize  that  winter  was  really  a  thing  of 
the  past. 

At  noon  the  campus  swarmed  and  the  fence  was  lined 
with  roosters.  The  juniors  came  out  and  smoked  their  big 
English  pipes,  and  did  their  best  to  imitate  the  graveness 
and  dignity  of  the  seniors.  The  sophomores  loaded  their 
line  of  fence,  joking,  laughing  and  guying  the  freshmen. 
And  the  freshmen  gamboled  like  young  colts  just  turned 
out  to  pasture,  betraying  their  absolute  "newness"  by 
every  word  and  act. 

Big  Bruce  Browning  smoked  in  lazy  abandon,  leaning 
against  a  post,  feeling  far  too  tired  to  climb  to  a  seat  upon 
the  top  rail.  Bink  Stubbs  was  whittling  with  a  brand-new 
knife,  while  Danny  Griswold  whistled  a  rollicking  tune. 
Dismal  Jones  actually  wore  an  expression  on  his  face  that 
was  as  near  perfect  satisfaction  and  happiness  as  anyone 
had  ever  seen  on  his  long  countenance.  "Lucy"  Little, 


Out  for  a  Cruise.  151 

with  a  necktie  "loud  enough  to  jar  the  bricks  out  of  SoutH 
Middle,"  was  doing  his  best  to  see  how  many  packages 
of  cigarettes  he  could  smoke  in  five  minutes. 

Everywhere  the  talk  was  baseball.  Who  would  make 
the  team  ?  Would  it  be  as  strong  as  the  year  before  ?  and 
would  they  win  out  from  Harvard  ? 

It  was  pretty  certain  Harvard  would  have  an  excep- 
tionally strong  team.  The  material  to  choose  from  was 
better  than  ever  before,  and  Harvard  was  "making  a 
brace"  in  all  directions.  Yale  had  won  the  last  football 
game  from  Harvard  more  by  the  wonderful  work  of  one 
man  than  by  the  superior  strength  of  her  eleven,  and  the 
Cambridge  lads  were  thirsting  for  revenge. 

The  man  who  seemed  to  stand  head  and  shoulders 
above  all  others  in  Yale  sports  and  athletics  was  Frank 
Merriwell.  But  Merriwell  had  become  a  "greasy  grind" 
during  the  winter,  and  there  were  those  who  prophesied 
that  he  was  satisfied  with  his  fame,  and  would  retire  on 
his  laurels.  It  was  even  reported  that  he  was  ambitious  to 
be  valedictorian,  and  it  was  known  that  he  could  go  to 
either  Bones  or  Keys,  as  he  might  choose,  which  was  a 
most  remarkable  state  of  affairs,  as  there  were  hundreds 
of  good  men  and  true,  with  hearts  full  of  ambition,  who 
could  not  reach  either. 

All  along  Merriwell  had  refused  to  say  anything  about 
his  plans,  and  he  would  not  talk  baseball.  He  had  been 
drawn  into  the  football  game  with  Harvard  through  force 
of  circumstances,  and  against  his  inclination,  so  it  was  not 
strange  that  the  general  belief  was  that  he  might  refuse 
to  become  the  leading  "twirler"  for  Yale  that  season. 

It  was  generally  conceded  by  Merriwell's  friends  and 
foes  alike  that  his  refusal  to  play  would  be  a  great  blow  to 
Yale.  Hugh  Herfiner  and  Dad  Hicks,  the  old  timers,  were 
gone,  and  Merriwell  was  the  only  man  left  who  had  been 
tried  by  Yale  and  not  found  wanting. 


152  Out  for  a  Cruise. 

True,  there  was  some  new  material.  Walbert,  an  An- 
'dover  man,  was  a  promising  candidate;  and  Haggerty, 
who  had  come  to  Yale  after  being  dropped  at  straight- 
laced  little  Williams  for  some  thoughtless  prank,  was 
said  to  be  a  great  "southpaw"  twirler. 

But  what  Yale  wanted  was  steady,  reliable  material  in 
which  confidence  could  be  placed.  The  new  men  might 
show  up  all  right  when  the  time  came,  but  what  if  they 
did  not?  The  "if"  was  in  the  way. 

So  baseball  was  the  theme  on  this  bright  April  day,  and 
the  enthusiasm  which  the  game  always  arouses  among 
the  "cranks"  was  beginning  to  make  itself  manifest. 

While  they  were  talking  of  him,  Frank  Merriwell  ap- 
peared. He  looked  trim  and  well-groomed.  It  was  one 
of  his  peculiarities  that  he  always  looked  as  if  he  had  just 
emerged  from  a  bath. 

Barely  was  Frank  upon  the  campus  before  Harry  Rat- 
tleton,  his  old-time  chum,  rushed  up  and  caught  him  by 
the  arm. 

"Looking  for  you,  old  man — looking  for  you!"  he  ex- 
citedly sputtered.  "There's  tomething  on  sap — I  mean 
something  on  tap." 

"You  know  I  never  drink  beer,"  smiled  Frank. 

"Never  mind — t'ain't  beer,"  Harry  rattled  on.  "This 
is  just  the  day,  isn't  it?" 

"Just  the  day  for  what?" 

"Cruise." 

"What  sort  of  a  cruise?" 

"On  the  sound.    I've  got  a  cat." 

"A  cat?  Well,  what  has  a  cat  to  do  with  a  cruise  on 
the  sound?" 

"I  mean  a  batcoat — no,  no,  a  catboat !  Bought  her 
yesterday." 

"Oh!     I  must  say  you  are  starting  early." 

"None  too  early.    And  this  is  just  the  day  for  a  sail. 


Out  for  a  Cruise.  153 

We  can  have  a  glorious  afternoon  on  the  sound.  What 
do  you  say  to  it,  old  man?" 

"Who  is  going?" 

"Anybody  you  want.  We'll  take  along  Browning  and 
Diamond." 

"I  don't  think  I  ought  to  spend  the  time." 

"Oh,  come  off !  You  have  been  cramming  like  a  fiend 
all  winter,  and  an  afternoon's  outing  is  just  what  you 
need.  You  can't  say  no.  Think  of  the  sport." 

Frank  did  think  of  it.  He  knew  it  was  true  he  had  be- 
come a  "dig,"  and  he  felt  that  a  sail  on  the  sound  would 
do  him  good.  It  would  serve  as  a  relaxation  for  half  a 
day,  and  he  could  return  to  his  studies  with  fresh  energy 
on  the  morrow. 

All  at  once  he  turned  on  Harry,  exclaiming : 

"I  am  with  you,  old  fellow!" 

"You  will  go?" 

"Dead  sure.  I'll  be  able  to  study  all  the  better  for  it 
afterward." 

"That's  the  talk,  Merry!    Who'll  we  take?" 

"Name  your  own  crew." 

"Diamond  and  Browning." 

"They're  all  right.  What  say  if  I  get  Hodge  and  take 
him  along?" 

"Get  him.  That  will  make  just  the  right  sort  of  a  crew. 
I'll  get  a  lunch,  and  we'll  meet  at  the  New  Haven  Yacht 
Clubhouse.  The  Jolly  Sport  is  moored  off  the  club- 
house. We'll  all  get  down  there  as  soon  as  possible.  I 
know  Browning  and  Diamond  will  go  when  they  know 
you  are  coming  along,  Frank.  You  go  for  Hodge,  and 
I'll  look  after  the  others." 

In  this  way  it  was  settled.  Frank  started  to  get  Bart 
Hodge,  another  old  chum,  who  roomed  at  a  distance. 
Hodge  had  passed  examinations  successfully,  and  was  a 


154  Out  for  a  Cruise. 

Yale  student  at  last.  Rattleton  made  for  Browning,  who 
still  leaned  in  solemn  stateliness  against  the  fence. 

Rattleton  and  Diamond  were  on  the  Jolly  Sport,  get- 
ting  her  in  trim,  when  Frank  and  Bart  appeared. 

"Where's  Browning?"  shouted  Frank. 

"Coming,"  Harry  called  back. 

"So's  Christmas,  but  it'll  be  a  long  time  getting  here. 
If  you  really  expect  that  fellow  to  sail  with  us  this  after- 
noon, you  should  have  brought  him  along." 

"We  can't  waste  the  afternoon  waiting  for  him,"  said 
Jack,  impatiently. 

Frank  and  Bart  got  on  board  the  boat,  and  then  Bruce 
appeared,  perspiring  and  staggering  under  a  heavy  load, 
for  he  carried  a  huge  basket  in  either  hand. 

"Dat  the  whickens — I  mean,  what  the  dickens  has  he 
there?"  cried  Harry.  "Oh,  I  know,  the  lunch!" 

"That's  it !"  exclaimed  Frank.  "We  were  smart  not  to 
think  of  that.  But  he  has  brought  enough  to  provision 
the  Jolly  Sport  for  a  week's  cruise." 

"Hurry  up,  Browning!"  shouted  Jack,  testily.  "We've 
waited  long  enough  for  you." 

"Oh,  fall  overboard  and  cool  off!"  flung  back  the  big 
fellow,  who  seemed  a  bit  out  of  sorts  himself  from  the 
exertion.  "You're  always  in  a  hurry." 

"What  have  you  there,  anyway?"  asked  Frank,  as 
Bruce  came  on  board. 

"Beer." 

"Beer?"  shouted  all  the  lads. 

"Sandwiches." 

"Then  it's  not  all  beer?" 

"Most  of  it  is." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Diamond,  beginning  to  look 
satisfied.  "We'll  take  care  of  it." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  grunted  Browning.    "I  brought 


Out  for  a  Cruise.  155 

it  along  for  myself.  Supposed  you  chaps  would  bring1 
your  own  beer  and  provisions." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  brought  all  that  stuff  in 
those  two  great  baskets  for  yourself  and  no  one  else?" 

"Why  not?" 

"How  long  do  you  think  this  cruise  will  last?" 

"Can't  tell  about  that." 

"You'll  divvy,  or  we'll  put  you  in  irons  and  cast  you 
into  the  hold !"  declared  Rattleton.  "I'm  owner  and  cap- 
tain of  this  vessel,  and  what  I  say  goes.  See?" 

To  this  Bruce  simply  grunted. 

The  baskets  were  stowed  as  snugly  as  possible,  and 
then  Rattleton  began  to  give  orders. 

"Haul  away!"  he  cried.  "Haul  away  on  the  throat 
halyards !  Up  with  the  peak !  That's  right.  Slack  off  the 
sheet  a  bit,  Diamond.  Lay  her  a  bit  more  to  port! 
Steady,  so!" 

The  tide  was  running  out,  and  the  wind  was  light,  but 
the  Jolly  Sport  seemed  eager  to  get  out  into  the  sound, 
and  was  soon  running  down  past  an  anchored  fishing  ves- 
sel at  good  speed. 

"Well,  this  is  great !"  muttered  Hodge,  as  he  lay  back 
comfortably,  lighting  a  cigar. 

Down  past  the  fort  in  Indian  Hill  they  slipped,  steered 
across  to  the  old  lighthouse,  and  tacked  into  the  sound. 

"Hurrah !"  cried  Skipper  Rattleton.  "The  breeze  is 
with  us,  boys !" 

Then  he  sang  a  snatch  of  "A  Life  on  the  Ocean  Wave." 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  singing?"  he  asked.  "It's 
entirely  by  ear." 

"Great  heavens!"  cried  Merry,  tragically.  'That  ex- 
plains it!" 

"Explains  what?" 

"Why,  I  didn't  think  it  possibly  could  be  by  mouth," 


156  Out  for  a  Cruise. 

Browning  grunted.  It  was  as  near  as  he  could  come 
to  laughing  without  exerting  himself. 

The  boys  took  off  their  coats  and  prepared  to  enjoy 
life.  All  fell  to  smoking,  with  the  exception  of  Frank. 

"Going  to  pitch  on  the  nine  this  spring,  Merry  ?"  asked 
Bart. 

"I  may,"  answered  Frank.  "I  was  practicing  yesterday, 
and  I  threw  the  ball  a  mile." 

"What's  that  ?  Threw  a  baseball  a  mile  ?  Oh,  come  off !" 

"You  see,  I  threw  it  at  a  mark." 

"Well?" 

"I  missed  the  mark." 

"What  of  that?" 

"Isn't  a  miss  as  good  as  a  mile  ?"  chuckled  Frank. 

Rattleton  came  near  having  a  fit. 

"If  this  keeps  up,"  said  Diamond,  "there  will  be  a  lot 
of  maniacs  on  board  before  the  Jolly  Sport  sails  back  to 
New  Haven." 

As  they  passed  a  purring  tug,  an  old  salt  hailed  them : 

"Better  be  careful,  boys,"  he  called. 

"Careful?  What  for?" 

"There'll  be  a  reg'ler  nor'wester  to-night.  This  is  a 
weather  breeder." 

"All  right,  cap,"  returned  Frank.  "We'll  be  back  be- 
fore night." 

And  they  did  not  think  of  the  warning  afterward. 

Away  down  the  harbor  ran  the  Jolly  Sport.  The  boys 
smoked,  laughed,  sang  and  joked.  It  was  like  a  mid- 
summer day.  They  took  the  East  Channel  out  toward 
Brandford  Point,  and  then  set  their  course  toward  the 
Thimble  Islands. 

After  a  time  the  wind  freshened  a  little,  and  they  put 
on  their  coats.  The  Thimbles  were  seen  glistening  in  the 
bright  sunshine.  Harry  had  brought  along  a  glass,  and 
they  took  turns  peering  off  toward  the  islands,  of  which 


Out  for  a  Cruise.  157 

there  are  said  to  be  three  hundred  and  sixty-five,  one  for 
each  day  in  the  year. 

The  wind  rose  steadily  till  they  had  a  "spanking  breeze," 
and  the  catboat  danced  along  right  merrily. 

"Perhaps  we  hadn't  better  try  to  make  the  islands," 
said  Frank,  but  the  others  cried  him  down. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you  ?"  they  demanded.  "This 
is  a  beautiful  breeze.  Of  course,  we'll  go  to  the  Thim- 
bles." 

They  were  enthusiastic,  for  the  way  the  Jolly  Sport 
reeled  along  was  exhilarating.  Soon  the  glistening  islands 
grew  to  bits  of  green  and  then  took  on  definite  shapes. 

"Look  at  that  schooner  yonder,"  said  Jack.  "Isn't  she 
a  queer-looking  craft?" 

He  pointed  out  a  black  two-master  that  was  running  up 
into  the  sound.  There  was  something  rakish  about  the 
slant  of  the  masts,  and  the  vessel  seemed  to  creep  over 
the  water  in  a  stealthy  fashion.  The  boys  watched  her 
with  increasing  interest. 

"Makes  me  think  of  some  of  the  stories  of  pirate  ves- 
sels," said  Bart. 

"Jingoes!"  exclaimed  Diamond.  "She  does  look  like 
a  pirate !" 

"But  the  days  of  pirates  are  past,"  said  Harry.  "Prob- 
ably she  is  a  fishing  vessel." 

"Guess  not,"  said  Frank.  "She  does  not  look  like  a 
fisherman.  There  is  something  mysterious  in  her  appear- 
ance." 

"You  know  Capt.  Kidd  ran  in  here  something  over  a 
hundred  years  ago  and  landed  on  the  Thimbles,"  Harry 
reminded.  "He  hid  his  vessel  behind  the  rocky  islands  and 
buried  his  treasure  where  he  and  no  one  else  has  since 
been  able  to  find  it.  His  'punch  bowl'  and  initials  remain 
to  prove  that  he  really  did  come  in  here." 

"Imagine  we  are  living  in  the  days  of  pirates,"  said 


158  Out  for  a  Cruise. 

Diamond,  his  eyes  sparkling.  "Imagine  that  fellow  com- 
ing yonder  is  one." 

"We'd  be  headed  the  other  way,  instead  of  bearing 
down  to  cross  close  under  his  stern,"  declared  Hodge. 

"I  don't  believe  that  schooner  is  much  of  a  sailor,  for 
all  of  her  rakish  appearance,"  said  Harry. 

"She's  running  under  light  sail,"  observed  Frank.  "It 
would  make  a  difference  if  she  were  to  crack  on  every 
stitch." 

At  the  wheel  a  man  seemed  half  asleep.  Another  man 
was  at  work  forward,  and  those  were  all  the  boys  could 
see. 

"Don't  believe  she  carries  a  heavy  crew,"  said  Brown- 
ing, surveying  the  schooner  with  lazy  interest. 

Somehow  or  other  as  they  drew  nearer  to  the  black  ves- 
sel they  lowered  their  voices  and  all  seemed  to  feel  an 
air  of  awe  stealing  over  them. 

"Do  you  make  out  her  name,  Merry?"  asked  Harry  of 
Frank,  who  had  the  glass. 

"Yes.   There,  you  can  all  see  it  now." 

The  schooner  swung  to  port,  and  the  white  letters  on 
her  stern  were  distinctly  seen. 

"P-i-r-a-t-e,"  spelled  Diamond. 

"Pirate?"  gasped  Harry,  doubtfully. 

"Pirate!"  exclaimed  Hodge,  excitedly. 

"Pirate,"  came  languidly  from  Browning,  who  showed 
no  remarkable  interest. 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Frank.  "An  appropriate  name 
for  her,  sure  enough." 

"I  should  say  so!"  nodded  Rattleton.  "She  looks  like 
a  pirate." 

"And  I'm  hanged  if  the  man  at  the  wheel  don't  look  like 
one !"  half  laughed  Frank,  passing  the  glass  to  Harry. 

Rattleton  took  a  look  through  the  glass, 


Out  for  a  Cruise.  159 

"Both  men  are  tough-looking  fellows,"  he  declared 
"They  have  the  appearance  of  men  who  would  not  hesitate 

to  cut  a  throat  for  a  sawbuck.  I  wouldn't What's 

up  now?" 

There  was  a  commotion  on  board  the  black  schooner. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  MAN  WITH  THE  GUN". 

"Something's  wrong !" 
"Sure  pop!" 

The  boys  heard  a  scream.  It  sounded  like  the  voice  of  a 
woman. 

Then  there  was  a  hoarse  shout.  The  man  at  the  wheel 
woke  to  a  show  of  interest,  and  the  man  forward  started 
aft. 

Suddenly  a  girlish  figure  appeared  on  deck.  She  ran  to 
the  rail  and  tried  to  leap  overboard,  but  two  men,  besides 
those  already  on  deck,  appeared  in  pursuit,  grasped  and 
held  her. 

The  girl  seemed  to  see  the  small  sailboat. 

"Help!"  she  wildly  cried.    "Save " 

One  of  the  men  clapped  a  hand  over  her  mouth,  and  sh6 
was  carried  away,  struggling. 

Then  there  was  excitement  on  board  the  Jolly  Sport. 

"The  Old  Nick  is  to  pay  on  board  the  Pirate!"  ex- 
claimed Rattleton. 

"It's  a  girl,  boys !"  cried  Diamond,  all  his  natural  gal- 
lantry awakened  and  aroused.  "She  is  in  distress.  We 
must  aid  her !" 

"Bring  her  round,  Hodge — bring  her  round,  and 
we'll " 

"Lay  her  up,  Hodge,  lay  her  up,  and  we'll  make  a  run 
after  the  schooner!"  came  promptly  from  Frank.  "I  want 
to  know  something  more  about  this." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Rattleton,  who  did  not  resent 
the  manner  in  which  Frank  took  command.  ''What  right 


The  Man  with  the  Gun.  .161 

have  they  to  treat  a  girl  like  that!  There's  something 
wrong  going  on !" 

Even  Browning  was  aroused. 

"I  believe  Rattleton  is  right,"  he  said.  "Maybe  that  girl 
has  been  kidnaped." 

The  Jolly  Sport  was  headed  in  pursuit  of  the  black 
schooner,  without  immediately  attracting  the  attention  of 
anyone  on  board  the  Pirate. 

The  girl  had  been  overpowered  with  ease  and  carried 
below. 

"What  are  we  going  to  do  when  we  overtake  them?" 
asked  Browning. 

"We'll  do  something  if  we  get  on  board!"  exclaimed 
Hodge. 

"But  it's  not  likely  we'll  be  able  to  get  on  board." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !" 

It  was  not  long  before  the  man  at  the  wheel  saw  the 
boat  in  pursuit.  He  called  to  another  man,  who  went  be- 
low, after  coming  astern  to  take  a  look  at  the  pursuing 
catboat. 

In  a  short  time  two  men  came  up  from  below  and  took" 
a  survey  of  the  Jolly  Sport.  One  of  the  men  seemed  to 
be  captain  of  the  schooner.  He  betrayed  uneasiness. 

Coming  to  the  rail,  the  captain  harshly  shouted : 

"What  are  you  lubbers  chasin'  us  fer?  Go  about,  and 
mind  your  own  business  !" 

"We  wish  to  talk  with  you,  captain,"  returned  Frank. 

"Don't  want  to  talk,"  was  the  surly  retort.   "Keep  off." 

"We  want  to  talk,  I  tell  you.  What's  the  use  to  be  so 
unsociable.  Make  yourself  agreeable." 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"We  saw  you  were  having  a  little  trouble  on  board 
and  so " 


1 62  The  Man  with  the  Gun. 

"Ain't  havin'  no  trouble.  Tell  yer  to  mind  your  own 
business!  If  you  nose  round  us,  you'll  get  hurt." 

"Who  was  the  young  lady  who  tried  to  jump  over- 
board?" 

"That  was  my  gal,"  answered  the  man,  after  somfe 
hesitation. 

"Why  did  she  try  to  leap  over  the  rail  ?" 

"She's  been  sick,  an'  she's  a  little  daffy  in  her  upper 
deck,  that's  all." 

"He's  lying!"  exclaimed  Hodge,  in  a  low  voice.  "You 
can  tell  that  he  is  lying  by  the  way  he  says  it!" 

"We've  got  a  doctor  here,"  fibbed  Rattleton.  "We'll 
come  aboard  and  he'll  prescribe  for  her." 

"Keep  off!"  roared  the  man  on  the  schooner.  "We 
don't  want  no  doctors  botherin'  round  here." 

"But  we  are  coming  aboard!"  flung  back  Diamond. 
"We  want  to  see  that  girl." 

"You  can't  see  her !  If  you  come  round  here,  you'll  get 
yer  heads  broke !" 

The  black-bearded  sailor  was  angry.  He  shook  his  fist 
at  the  boys,  and  used  language  that  would  not  look  well 
in  print. 

Still  the  Jolly  Sport  kept  after  the  Pirate,  as  if  the 
youthful  crew  of  the  former  had  determined  to  overhaul 
the  schooner  and  board  her. 

There  was  a  consultation  on  board  the  schooner,  and 
then  one  of  the  men  hastily  went  below. 

The  Jolly  Sport  was  drawing  close  to  the  other  vessel 
when  the  man  reappeared,  bringing  a  gun,  which  he 
handed  to  the  black-bearded  man  who  had  done  all  the 
talking. 

"Jee  whiskers !"  gurgled  Rattleton.  "That  means  trou- 
Ue!" 


The  Man  with  the  Gun.  163 

"He  won't  dare  use  it!"  declared  Diamond. 

The  man  with  the  gun  leaned  over  the  rail  of  the 
schooner. 

"Now,  look  here,  you  fresh  young  lubbers,"  he  roared, 
"if  you  don't  go  round  and  git,  I'll  fill  you  full  of  duck- 
shot,  or  my  name's  not  Cyrus  Horn !" 

The  way  he  said  it  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  meant 
business. 

"Hanged  if  I  don't  think  he'll  do  it !"  grunted  Brown- 
ing. "He  is  a  genuine  old  pirate,  for  sure." 

"Are  you  the  captain  of  that  schooner?"  asked  Frank 
Merriwell. 

"I  be,"  was  the  answer. 

"Well,  what's  the  use  to  be  touchy,  captain !  We've  got 
some  beer  on  board,  and  you  must  be  thirsty.  You'll  find 
us  a  jolly  crowd." 

"I  don't  drink  beer  and  I  don't  want  nothing  to  do  with 
yer.  Git!" 

Capt.  Horn  leveled  his  big  gun  at  the  pursuing  boat. 

"Don't  be  hasty,  captain,  for " 

"Git !" 

"Listen  to  reason." 

"Git!" 

The  captain  of  the  schooner  was  not  to  be  beguiled  by 
smooth  words.  They  could  see  his  greenish  eyes  glaring 
along  the  barrel  of  the  gun  he  held,  and  he  looked  like 
a  person  who  would  not  hesitate  to  shoot. 

"I'll  give  ye  till  I  count  three  to  go  about,"  he  roared. 
"If  ye  don't  do  it,  I'll  begin  shootin'." 

Then  he  counted: 

"One!" 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  undecidedly. 

"Two!" 

"It's  no  use,"  said  Frank,  quietly.    "If  the  man  is  in 


1 64  The  Man  with  the  Gun. 

such  a  mood,  it's  worse  than  folly  to  try  to  board  his  boat 
He  could  claim  that  he  took  us  for  robbers,  and " 

"Down  with  your  helm !"  cried  Rattleton,  and  the  Jolly 
Sport  was  put  about. 

None  too  soon,  for  the  captain  of  the  schooner  was  seen 
taking  aim  with  great  deliberation. 

"Now  git !"  he  roared.  "If  I  see  anything  of  yer  again, 
I'll  take  a  shot  at  yer  jest  for  the  fun  of  it." 

"Well,  if  that  man  isn't  a  genuine  pirate,  it's  not  his 
fault,"  growled  Browning.  "It's  certain  he  was  cut  out 
for  one." 

"He'd  cut  a  throat  with  pleasure,"  nodded  Hodge. 

Merriwell  was  silent,  with  his  eyes  fastened  on  the  re- 
ceding schooner.  There  was  a  troubled  expression  on  his 
handsome  face,  and  it  was  plain  enough  that  he  regretted 
their  inability  to  solve  the  mystery  of  the  girl  who  had 
tried  to  leap  overboard. 

It  was  not  like  Frank  to  give  up  so  easily,  but  he  had 
realized  that  it  was  the  height  of  folly  to  attempt  to  board 
the  schooner  in  the  face  of  the  enraged  man  with  the  gun. 

It  might  be  true  that  the  girl  was  crazy,  but  Frank 
could  not  help  feeling  that  it  was  not  true.  Something 
seemed  to  whisper  that  she  was  a  captive  in  the  hands  of 
wretched  and  unscrupulous  men. 

Such  a  thought  was  quite  enough  to  arouse  within 
Frank's  heart  a  strong  desire  to  rescue  her,  but  it  seemed 
that  he  was  utterly  helpless  to  render  her  any  assistance. 

Had  our  hero  been  sure  the  girl  was  a  captive,  he  would 
have  felt  like  following  the  Pirate  at  a  distance  and  mak- 
ing an  attempt  to  have  the  proper  authorities  render  the 
girl  assistance  when  Capt.  Horn  ran  into  some  port. 

If  it  was  true  she  was  crazy,  the  boys  would  make 
themselves  objects  of  ridicule  by  interfering  in  her  behalf. 

The  situation  was  discussed,  and  they  finally  decided  to 
continue  on  their  course  to  the  Thimbles. 


The  Man  with  the  Gun.  165 

They  steered  for  Pot  Rock  and  the  cove,  where  it  was 
said  Capt.  Kidd  had  hidden  his  vessel,  and  near  which, 
it  was  supposed,  his  treasure  was  buried. 

It  was  past  three  in  the  afternoon  when  they  ran  into 
the  little  steamboat  dock. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

ON   THE   ISLAND. 

Under  a  tree  they  lunched,  drank  their  beer  and  smoked 
cigars  and  cigarettes.  They  were  jolly,  seeming  to  have 
forgotten  the  adventure  with  the  mysterious  black 
schooner. 

Browning  stretched  his  massive  frame  on  the  ground 
and  puffed  away  in  serene  laziness. 

"I'd  like  to  stay  right  here  the  rest  of  my  life  and  do 
nothing  but  eat  and  drink  and  sleep,"  he  grunted. 

"You'd  miss  the  ball  games  this  spring,"  said  Diamond. 

"Go  to!"  said  the  big  fellow.  "What  are  the  ball 
games?  A  lot  of  fellows  get  up  and  bat  a  ball  around, 
while  another  lot  of  fellows  chase  it.  They  run  and  whoop 
and  throw  the  ball  and  get  covered  with  perspiration.  It 
is  a  most  distressing  spectacle.  Ball  games,  indeed!  Go 
to,  I  say — go  to!" 

"And  the  spring  boat  race — you'd  miss  that,"  said 
Harry. 

"Another  distressing  spectacle.  Nine  men  in  a  boat, 
eight  of  them  working,  working,  working  as  if  their  lives 
depended  on  it.  They  strain  every  muscle,  their  faces  are 
contorted  with  the  agony  of  it,  their  eyes  bulge  with  dis- 
tress, their  breasts  heave  as  they  try  to  breathe,  and  when 
the  race  is  over  some  of  them  are  like  rags  run  through  a 
wringer.  Again  I  say,  go  to!" 

"But  you  used  to  be  enthusiastic  over  such  things.  You 
played  football  yourself." 

"Which  goes  to  show  what  a  fool  a  fellow  can  make 
of  himself.  Of  all  things  football  is  the  worst.  That  is  a 
real  battle  for  life  between  twenty-two  mad  and  furious 


On  the  Island.  167 

fools,  every  one  of  whom  is  thirsting  for  gore.  They 
tear  at  one  another,  like  famished  wolves,  buck  one  an- 
other, fling  one  another  to  the  ground,  jump  on  one  an- 
other. Did  I  play  football?" 

"Surely  you  did." 

"It's  a  far  reach  from  such  folly  to  the  wisdom  of  to- 
day.   Ten  thousand  dollars  would  not  induce  me  to  engage 
once  again  in  a  real  game  of  football." 
J'But  think  of  the  excitement — the  glory." 

"The  excitement  is  the  delirium  of  fools.  The  glory — 
what  is  glory?  How  long  does  it  last?  Last  fall,  when 
•Merry  carried  the  ball  over  the  line  for  a  touchdown  on 
Jarvis  Field,  with  half  the  Harvard  team  on  his  back,  he 
covered  himself  with  glory.  For  a  little  time  he  was  the 
talk  of  the  college.  His  picture  was  in  the  papers.  He 
was  dined,  and  he  would  have  been  wined — that  is,  if  he 
would  have  been.  But  now — now  how  is  it?  Spring  has 
come,  football  is  forgotten  and  his  glory  is  fading.  Every- 
body is  talking  of  baseball  and  the  way  the  nine  will  be 
made  up." 

"And  you'll  find  they  are  talking  of  Merry  just  the 
same,"  declared  Harry.  "They  haven't  forgotten  that  he 
twirls  the  sphere." 

"Oh,  no,  they  haven't  forgotten;  but  what  if  he  were 
not  available — what  if  he  should  refuse?  How  long  would 
his  glory  last !  Another  would  arise  to  fill  his  place,  and 
he  would  be  forgotten.  Glory!  It  is  the  dream  of  fools. 
Give  me  plenty  to  wear,  plenty  to  eat  and  lots  of  time  to 
rest,  and  the  world  may  have  its  glory." 

Frank  laughed. 

"The  same  old  Browning,"  he  said.  "And  yet  you 
are  as  much  of  a  football  and  baseball  enthusiast  as  any 
man  at  Yale.  It  breaks  your  heart  when  Harvard  or 
Princeton  wins  from  Old  Eli.  You  go  into  mourning  and 


1 68  On  the  Island. 

'don't  recover  for  a  week.  Oh,  you  put  up  a  good  bluff, 
old  man,  but  I  can  read  you  like  an  open  book." 

Bruce  grunted  derisively. 

"Very  astute,"  he  commented,  and  then  relapsed  into 
silence,  as  if  it  were  a  great  effort  to  speak,  and  he  had 
already  exerted  himself  too  much. 

"And  think  of  the  pretty  girls  Merry  wins  by  his  popu- 
larity," said  Jack.  "He  has  opportunities  to  kiss  lots  of 
them." 

"If  a  fellow  has  an  opportunity  to  kiss  a  pretty  girl  he 
should  improve  it,"  declared  Hodge. 

"Ah !"  cried  Rattleton ;  "such  an  opportunity  could  not 
be  improved." 

To  this  all  agreed,  laughing,  with  the  exception  of 
Browning,  who  had  closed  his  eyes  and  seemed  to  have 
fallen  asleep  instantly. 

The  boys  talked  of  Yale's  prospects  on  the  diamond, 
and  Harry  said : 

"It  strikes  me  that  we  are  going  to  be  weak  behind1 
the  bat  this  year.  What  do  you  think,  Merry  ?" 

"There  are  several  fellows  who  will  try  for  the  posi- 
tion." 

"Yes ;  but  what  do  you  know  about  them?" 

"I  don't  like  to  say." 

"Oh,  come!  You  are  with  friends,  and  you  may  talk 
freely.  What  do  you  think  of  Ned  Noon  ?" 

"He  is,  in  my  estimation,  one  of  the  most  promising 
men,  but  he  can't  run,  and  bats  weakly.  Behind  the  bat 
he  might  work  very  well,  but  he  would  be  weak  in  other 
directions." 

"That's  string  as  a  straight — I  mean,  straight  as  a 
string,"  cried  Harry.  "If  Ned  Noon  stands  a  show  to  get 
on  the  'varsity  nine,  there  is  hope  for  me." 

"Well,  there's  Roger  Stone,"  put  in  Diamond.  "What 
about  him  2" 


On  the  Island.  169 

"He  can  bat  like  a  fiend,"  said  Frank,  "but  he  is  wealc 
on  his  throwing.  He'll  stop  anything  he  can  reach,  but  it 
takes  him  so  long  to  get  a  ball  to  second  base  that  a  good 
runner  can  steal  down  from  first  every  time.  That  is  a 
big  fault.  Stone  will  not  do." 

"Right  again,"  nodded  Rattleton.  "And  those  two  men 
are  the  strongest  of  the  new  candidates." 

"Some  man  may  show  up  who  is  not  talked  of  at  all 
now,"  said  Jack. 

Harry  gave  Hodge  a  quick  glance. 

"Old  man,"  he  cried,  "why  don't  you  make  a  try  for 
the  nine?" 

An  embarrassed  flush  showed  in  Bart's  dark  cheeks. 

"That  would  be  pretty  fresh  for  a  freshman,  wouldn't 
it?"  he  asked. 

"Not  so  confounded  fresh.  Merry  got  on  the  first 
year  he  was  in  Yale." 

"That's  different." 

"How?" 

"I  am  not  Frank  Merriwell,  and  there  are  'not  many 
fellows  his  equal." 

Frank  laughed  merrily. 

"Come  off!"  he  cried.  "The  world  is  full  of  them.  In 
order  to  get  on  at  anything,  a  fellow  must  seize  his  op- 
portunities. At  the  time  that  I  got  on  to  the  nine  there 
was  a  great  cry  for  a  change  pitcher.  I  laid  out  to  fill  the 
bill,  and  I  managed  to  fill  it.  That's  all.  Now  there's  a 
cry  for  a  catcher,  as  well  as  for  pitchers.  It  will  be  some- 
body's opportunity." 

Hodge  was  silent,  but  there  was  an  eager  look  on  his 
face. 

"I  have  pitched  to  you,  Bart,"  Frank  went  on,  "and  I 
know  what  you  are.  We  work  well  together.  You  are  a 
dandy  thrower,  a  good  batter,  and  a  bird  on  the  bases. 


i  yo  On  the  Island. 

Take  my  advice,  get  into  gear  and  make  a  try  for  the 
nine." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  do  it." 

"There'll  be  plenty  of  fellows  to  coach  you,"  said  Dia- 
mond, quickly.  "I  am  going  in  for  a  shot  at  third  bag. 
I  may  get  there,  although  several  good  men  are  looking  in 
the  same  direction.  If  I  fail,  it  won't  kill  me.  I  know  I 
am  not  the  only  cake  of  ice.  There  are  others  just  as 
cool.  Make  a  bluff  at  it,  Hodge.  It  won't  hurt  you  to 
get  left.",. 

"Perhaps  not,"  said  Bart;  but  he  felt  in  his  heart  that 
he  would  be  cut  keenly  if  he  made  a  desperate  try  to  get 
on  the  nine  and  some  other  fellow  was  chosen. 

Browning  sneezed  and  awoke. 

"You're  catching  cold,  old  man,"  said  Frank. 

"No  danger,"  said  Rattleton.  "He's  too  lazy  to  catch 
anything." 

"That's  got  a  long  gray  beard  on  it,"  grunted  Bruce, 
with  an  air  of  disgust. 

The  wind,  chill  and  raw,  began  to  blow.  Black  clouds 
were  piling  up  in  the  west,  and  the  sun  was  shut  out.  This 
came  so  suddenly  that  the  boys  were  startled. 

"Jove!"  cried  Hodge.    "There's  a  storm  coming!" 

"Remember  what  the  old  fellow  on  the  tug  said  when 
we  came  out?"  exclaimed  Diamond.  "He  warned  us." 

"That's  so!" 

Frank  was  on  his  feet  taking  a  survey  of  the  sea 
and  sky. 

"If  we  want  to  get  back  to  New  Haven  to-night  we'd 
tetter  get  a  hustle  on,"  he  declared. 

Then  there  was  a  hasty  gathering  of  such  things  as  they 
wished  to  carry  back  and  a  hurrying  down  to  the  Jolly 
Sport.  They  clambered  on  board,  stowed  things  away, 
cast  off  from  the  pier,  ran  up  the  sails,  and  made  the  first 
tack  out  to  sea. 


On  the  Island.  171 

The  sky  became  dark  and  overcast.  Down  near  New 
York  somewhere  great  rollers  started  and  seemed  to 
gather  force  and  size  as  they  surged  along  the  sound. 

The  spray  began  to  fly  as  the  catboat  plunged  from 
roller  to  roller,  and  the  boys  saw  a  prospect  of  getting 
"good  and  wet." 

Frank  was  at  the  helm,  and  his  face  wore  a  serious  look. 
He  realized  that  they  were  in  for  a  bad  run,  to  say  the 
very  least. 

And  the  wind  was  dead  ahead! 

Harry  showed  nervousness.  He  owned  the  boat,  but  it 
was  not  that  he  was  thinking  about.  He  remembered  the 
story  of  the  Yale  crowd  lost  on  the  sound  some  years  be- 
fore. 

"Mink  we'll  thake  it — I  mean  think  we'll  make  it  all 
right,  Frank?"  he  asked,  with  evident  agitation. 

"We  must,"  was  all  Merriwell  answered. 

The  wind  grew  stiffer  and  stiffer.  The  Jolly  Sport 
floundered  considerably,  and  the  spray  flew  thicker  and 
thicker. 

"We've  got  to  take  in  a  reef,"  cried  Merry.  "Get  ready, 
all  hands.  Now — work  lively!" 

Lively  work  they  made  of  it,  but  the  catboat  shipped 
a  sea  before  the  reefing  was  over  and  she  was  brought  into 
the  wind  again. 

The  boys  fell  to  bailing,  and  away  went  the  Jolly  Sport 
like  a  racer. 

The  wind  continued  to  rise,  and  Frank  found  Harry's 
boat  had  her  faults. 

"She's  no  wind-jammer,"  he  said.  "Can't  hold  her 
close,  and  she  will  fall  off,  best  I  can  do." 

"If  we'd  paid  some  attention  to  the  old  fellow  who 
warned  us  there  would  be  a  blow,"  regretted  Harry. 

"No  use  to  cry  over  that,"  came  sharply  from  Diamond. 
"We've  got  to  make  New  Haven  harbor." 


172  On  the  Island. 

Browning  shivered. 

"Don't  know  why  I  was  fool  enough  to  come,"  he 
grumbled  "Might  be  safe  and  warm  in  my  room  now." 

It  was  five  o'clock,  but  was  so  dark  that  it  seemed  much 
later.  Rattleton,  for  all  of  his  nervousness,  cracked  sev- 
eral jokes.  Diamond  made  an  effort  to  look  unconcerned, 
and  succeeded  very  well.  Hodge  was  grim  and  silent. 

The  wind  was  fitful.   Now  and  then  Frank  would  cry: 

"Ease  her  off." 

Then  they  would  let  out  the  sail  quickly,  and  the  cat's- 
paw  would  sweep  over  them. 

"How  is  your  old  sheet,  Rattles?"  asked  Diamond. 
"Will  she  hold?" 

"Can't  say,"  confessed  Harry.    "She  isn't  new." 

"How  are  the  halyards?" 

"Strong  enough  so  I  have  been  up  the  mast  with  them." 

"They  ought  to  be  all  right." 

Sizz — boom !  A  big  wave  struck  the  bow,  the  spray 
flew  in  a  thick  cloud,  and  they  were  drenched  to  the  skin. 

"Awfully  jolly !"  grinned  Harry. 

"Yes,  more  fun  than  a  barrel  of  monkeys!"  said  Jack, 
sarcastically. 

"That's  nothing  but  the  beginning,"  assured  Frank, 
consolingly.  "It'll  be  a  regular  picnic  before  New  Haven 
is  reached." 

"How  nice!"  groaned  Browning. 

They  took  turns  at  bailing  till  all  were  weary  and  ex- 
hausted. Diamond's  temper  was  beginning  to  rise,  while 
Hodge  was  holding  his  down  with  an  effort. 

"Don't  anybody  ever  again  ask  me  to  go  sailing  on  an 
April  day!"  snapped  the  Virginian. 

Darkness  came  down  without  the  moon  they  desired, 

"I  wish  we  were  back  on  the  island,"  said  Bart. 

"Can't  we  run  back  there  now?"  asked  Harry. 


On  the  Island.  173 

Frank  looked  away  over  the  water  and  then  shook  his 
head. 

"It's  more  than  even  we'd  run  straight  out  to  the  open 
sea,"  he  said. 

Frank  took  full  command,  and  his  sharp  orders  were 
obeyed  unhesitatingly,  showing  they  all  had  confidence 
in  him. 

The  Jolly  Spart  lurched  and  staggered.  She  fell  off 
amazingly.  Frank  gave  orders  that  another  reef  be  taken, 
and  the  boys  sprang  to  obey,  Browning  making  a  show 
of  haste. 

Frank  put  two  men  on  the  sheet  when  the  reef  had 
been  made,  a  laborious  task,  for  their  fingers  were  numb 
with  the  cold.  The  boat  shook  ominously. 

But  under  the  double  reef  she  rode  better. 

All  at  once  a  cry  broke  from  Bart's  lips. 

"Luff!  luff!"  he  screamed.  "Hard  a-port,  or  we're 
goners !" 

He  pointed,  and  they  all  saw  a  dark  mass  that  was  bear- 
ing down  upon  them  with  the  speed  of  an  express  train. 
It  seemed  to  loom  above  them  like  the  black  shadow  of 
doom.  It  sent  a  shudded  of  horror  to  their  hearts. 

"A  vessel !"  screamed  Diamond. 

"A  vessel !"  thundered  Browning.   "Look  out,  Merry !" 

With  all  his  strength  Frank  jammed  down  the  tiller, 
and  the  boat  came  about  on  the  other  tack,  although  she 
seemed  to  do  so  with  deathly  slowness. 

Every  lad  held  his  breath,  expecting  to  hear  a  crash, 
feel  the  shock,  or  be  hurled  into  the  sea. 

There  was  a  slight  jar,  a  scraping  sound,  and  the  black 
mass  fled  past. 

"It's  the  black  schooner !"  shouted  Diamond. 

The  same  thought  had  come  to  Frank.  There  seemed 
to  be  something  familiar  in  this  overshadowing  peril  ol 
the  deep. 


174  O°  the  Island. 

Past  them  flew  the  strange  vessel.  The  wind  was  mak- 
ing a  great  racket,  but  high  above  its  clamor  the  boys  in 
the  catboat  heard  a  cry  that  must  have  come  from  human 
lips.  It  was  wild  and  weird,  and  it  sent  a  shudder  through 
them. 

On  sped  the  mysterious  vessel. 

Round  came  the  Jolly  Sport,  and,  almost  before  any- 
body was  aware  of  it,  the  catboat  was  running  after  the 
schooner. 

Running  before  the  wind  the  Jolly  Sport  was  a  won- 
der. She  flew  like  a  bird. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Merry?"  shouted  Rattle- 
ton,  in  amazement. 

"I  am  going  to  try  to  get  back  to  the  Thimbles  before 
it  is  pitch  dark." 

"It  can't  be  done !"  declared  Diamond. 

"It's  our  only  show.  The  night  is  going  to  be  blacker 
than  a  stack  of  black  cats.  We'll  be  run  down  here  on  the 
sound,  or  the  seas  will  swamp  us.  We  can't  make  New 
Haven  against  this  wind.  It  is  utterly  impossible." 

The  others  felt  that  Frank  was  right.  The  boat  had 
shown  that  she  was  but  little  good  against  the  wind,  but 
she  could  run  like  a  deer  before  it.  They  had  been  a 
long  time  beating  off  from  the  Thimbles,  but  it  could  not 
take  them  long  to  run  back. 

Then  they  thought  of  the  vessel  that  had  so  nearly 
run  them  down. 

"Did  you  hear  that  cry,  Merry  ?"  asked  Rattleton. 

"Yes,  I  heard  it,"  nodded  Frank. 

"What  do  you  think  it  was  ?" 

"Hard  to  tell." 

"Sounded  like  a  cry  of  distress." 

"Yes,  that  was  what  it  sounded  like." 

Then  all  the  boys  thought  of  the  girl  they  had  seen  on 


On  the  Island.  175 

the  mysterious  schooner.  It  occurred  to  each  one  of  them 
that  it  was  possible  the  cry  had  come  from  her  lips. 

For  all  that  the  Jolly  Sport  seemed  to  fly,  the  vessel 
was  making  still  greater  speed,  and  she  was  soon  lost  in 
the  gloom. 

The  boys  felt  that  the  chance  of  making  the  Thimbles 
*  and  running  into  the  snug  little  harbor  was  small  indeed, 
but  they  trusted  everything  to  Frank  Merriwell's  judg- 
ment. 

They  had  been  bailing  all  along,  thinking  the  water  was 
coming  in  over  the  rail,  but  when  they  had  turned  about 
a  startling  discovery  was  made. 

The  water  was  coming  in  as  fast  as  ever,  although  but 
little  spray  flew  into  the  boat. 

"She's  leaking!"  cried  Hodge. 

Frank  had  made  that  discovery  some  time  before,  and  it 
was  for  that  reason  he  had  turned  about  so  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly.  He  hoped  to  strike  the  Thimbles,  and,  as  a 
desperate  resort,  he  could  pile  the  Jolly  Sport  high  and 
dry  on  the  beach. 

Frank  knew  the  boat  would  not  hold  to  continue  the 
desperate  attempt  to  beat  across  the  sound.  He  was  not 
sure  she  would  hold  to  reach  the  islands. 

But  what  if  they  missed  the  islands  entirely? 

They  would  be  driven  out  to  sea,  and  the  chances  were 
a  thousand  to  one  that  not  ojie  of  them  would  ever  live  to 
again  place  a  foot  on  dry,  land ! 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

IN  THE  HOUR  OF  PERIL,. 

It  was  a  terrible  risk  running  blindly  for  those  islands, 
but  it  seemed  a  still  more  terrible  one  to  attempt  to  beat 
across  the  black  sound. 

The  five  lads  in  the  boat  held  their  breath,  strained 
their  eyes,  listened. 

Around  the  boat  the  sea  swirled  and  seethed.  It  rolled 
darkly  on  either  hand,  and  the  Jolly  Sport  cut  through  the 
water  with  a  hissing  sound. 

Somehow  through  the  darkness  they  could  see  great 
white  bubbles  of  foam  that  came  up  out  of  the  water  and 
winked  at  them  like  the  eyes  of  the  mighty  demons  of 
the  deep. 

Those  blinking  eyes  filled  them  with  awe  and  horror. 
They  shuddered  and  turned  sick  at  heart.  Their  ears 
listened  for  the  breaking  of  the  surf  on  the  beach  of 
the  islands,  a  sound  which  they  longed,  yet  dreaded,  to 
hear. 

But  all  they  could  hear  was  the  shriek  of  the  wind,  the 
swish  of  the  sea,  and  the  rushing  sound  of  the  boat. 

"Bail!" 

The  word  came  like  a  pistol  shot.  It  woke  them  to  a 
realization  of  the  peril  that  was  creeping  upon  them. 

Water  was  pouring  into  the  boat  from  her  leaks.  It 
was  rising  around  their  feet,  and  the  Jolly  Sport  was 
beginning  to  plunge  and  flounder  distressingly. 

"Bail!" 

Again  the  word  shot  from  Frank  Merriwell's  lips. 

They  hastened  to  obey.    They  scooped  the  water  up 


In  the  Hour  of  Peril.  177 

with  the  bailing  dishes,  with  a  sponge,  and  with  their; 
caps ;  but  it  came  in  faster  than  they  could  throw  it  out. 

"We're  going  down!" 

Rattleton  uttered  the  cry. 

"Well,"  said  Browning,  in  the  same  old  lazy  manner, 
"it  does  look  as  if  we  might  have  to  swim  for  it  pretty 
soon." 

Diamond  and  Hodge  were  silent.  Their  teeth  were  set, 
and  they  were  straining  their  eyes  through  the  darkness, 
as  if  they  longed  to  see  something  that  would  give  them 
hope. 

A  light  flashed  out,  winked,  disappeared. 

"Lighthouse  there!"  shouted  Rattleton. 

"Running  straight  for  it!"  cried  Diamond. 

"Be  on  a  ledge  in  a  minute !"  grunted  Browning. 

Frank  shoved  over  the  tiller,  and  the  Jolly  Sport  went 
floundering  off  through  the  seas,  with  her  course  changed 
somewhat. 

"Bail,  boys — bail!"  Frank  again  commanded.  "It  is 
our  only  hope.  If  we  can  keep  afloat  five  minutes 
longer " 

The  wind  tore  the  words  from  his  lips,  with  a  mocking 
shriek.  He  bent  his  head  and  gripped  the  tiller,  while  the 
boat  wallowed  along  bravely,  seeming  like  a  wounded 
creature  seeking  cover  as  it  grew  weaker  from  loss  of 
blood. 

The  boys  worked  with  all  the  energy  they  could  com- 
mand to  get  the  water  out  as  fast  as  it  came  in.  Bruce 
Browning  did  his  best.  They  were  chilled  to  the  bone, 
dripping  wet,  and  sick  at  heart.  Every  man  of  them  felt 
that  his  chance  of  being  drowned  was  most  excellent. 

Swish — bump!  the  big  waves  came  down  on  the  boat, 
struck  her,  piled  over  her.  A  score  of  times  it  seemed  that 
she  was  swamped,  a  score  of  times  she  fought  her  way  to 


178  In  the  Hour  of  Peril. 

the  surface,  a  score  of  times  prayers  of  relief  were  whis- 
pered by  white  lips. 

She  was  not  making  much  headway.  The  wind  was 
carrying  her  off  helplessly. 

Still  Frank  clung  to  the  tiller,  trying  to  steer  and  suc- 
ceeding in  a  measure,  so  that  he  kept  her  from  rolling 
helplessly  broadside  to  the  seas. 

"Light  again !"  cried  Diamond,  as  the  flash  of  fire  again 
gleamed  out  and  disappeared. 

Now  came  a  sound  that  was  like  the  sullen  roar  of  an 
animal  in  distress.  It  was  the  booming  of  the  surf  on 
shore. 

"If  I  don't  strike  the  mouth  of  the  cove,  we'll  be  piled 
up  on  a  ledge,  or  high  and  dry  on  shore  in  less  than  two 
minutes,"  came  from  Frank's  lips. 

They  heard  him,  and  they  realized  they  were  close  upon 
the  islands.  The  sound  of  the  surf  added  a  feeling  of  ter- 
ror to  their  other  sensations,  and  yet  they  were  thankful 
they  had  not  missed  the  Thimbles  and  been  driven  out 
to  sea. 

Louder  and  louder  came  the  booming  roar  of  the  surf. 
Through  the  darkness  they  seemed  to  see  a  white  wall  of 
foam  that  shifted  and  heaved,  leaped  and  roared. 

All  the  tigers  of  the  deep  seemed  to  be  at  play  along 
that  white  line.  They  saw  the  boat  and  its  helplesss  crew. 
They  roared  their  delight  over  the  coming  feast. 

But  ahead — what  was  that?  A  spot  where  the  white 
line  was  not  dancing  and  howling.  The  boat  made  for 
that  spot. 

"Holdfast!" 

Frank  was  not  sure  it  was  the  mouth  of  the  cove.  He 
could  not  tell  in  that  dense  darkness,  but  he  headed 
straight  toward  that  spot.  They  might  strike  at  any 
moment. 

Onward  floundered  the  Jolly  Sport,  making  a  last  gal- 


In  the  Hour  of  Peril.  179 

lant  effort  to  keep  afloat.  The  roaring  surf  was  on  either 
side.  The  leaping  tigers  in  white  were  there,  gnashing 
their  teeth  and  howling  with  impotent  rage. 

"It's  the  cove !"  screamed  Harry  Rattleton.  "We're  all 
right!  Hurrah!" 

"Hurrah !"  cheered  Diamond. 

Frank  said  nothing;  he  knew  their  peril  was  not  over. 

Bart  Hodge  said  nothing;  he  would  not  have  mur- 
mured had  they  gone  down  in  mid-sound. 

Bruce  Browning  was  silent;  he  was  exhausted  by  his 
efforts  at  bailing. 

The  great  waves  pursued  the  fugitive  boat  into  the 
cove,  like  wolves  in  chase  of  a  wounded  deer. 

All  at  once  a  black  hulk  loomed  before  them. 

"A  vessel !"  cried  Harry. 

"Look  out!"  warned  Jack. 

With  all  his  strength,  Frank  pulled  over  the  tiller.  The 
boat  obeyed  slowly  and  with  reluctance.  She  could  not 
clear  the  black  hulk  entirely. 

"Confound  them!"  muttered  Frank.  "Why  don't  they 
have  a  light  out  ?  There's  a  law  for  this,  and " 

Bump! — the  Jolly  Sport  struck.  Scrape! — she  slid 
along  the  side  of  the  vessel. 

It  was  a  marvel  she  did  not  go  down  then  and  there, 
but  they  continued  to  scrape  and  slide  along  the  side  of 
the  vessel,  which  was  heaving  at  anchor. 

The  shock  was  felt  on  board  the  vessel.  As  the  boys 
looked  up  there  was  a  faint  gleam  of  light,  and  a  man 
looked  down  at  them  from  the  rail.  He  snarled  out 
something  at  them,  but  the  shrieking  wind  drowned  his 
words,  and  they  did  not  understand  what  he  said. 

The  boat  cleared  the  vessel  and  went  wallowing  across 
the  dark  waters  of  the  cove. 

"Can't  strike  steamboat  pier,"  muttered  Frank.  "Strike 
shore  beyond.  Bound  to  swim  for  it." 


i8o  In  the  Hour  of  Peril. 

Then  he  called  to  the  others : 

"All  ready,  fellows !  Got  to  swim.  We're  all  right  now, 
if  we  stand  by  each  other." 

They  knew  they  would  be  in  the  water  directly,  but 
they  were  not  scared  now,  for  what  was  before  them  was 
nothing  beside  what  they  had  escaped. 

"Harry,  are  you  ready  ?"  called  Frank. 

"All  ready,  Merry,"  came  back,  promptly. 

"Ready,  Jack?" 

"Sure,"  answered  Diamond's  voice. 

"And  you,  Bruce  ?" 

"I'm  too  fat  to  sink,  don't  worry  about  me,"  said 
Browning,  with  a  laugh. 

"How  about  you,  Bart?" 

No  answer. 

"Hodge,  are  you  ready?"  called  Frank. 

No  answer. 

"What's  the  matter  with  him  ?  Why  doesn't  he  speak  ?" 

"Where  is  he?"  asked  Rattleton,  excitedly. 

"Isn't  he  here?" 

"No!  He  is  gone!" 

"Impossible." 

But  it  was  true;  Hodge  was  not  in  the  boat.  He  had 
disappeared  in  a  most  remarkable  manner,  as  if  he  had 
beqn  dragged  from  the  boat  by  the  grim  demons  of  the 
deep. 

There  was  no  time  to  think  about  this  most  astounding 
and  terrible  discovery.  They  had  stopped  bailing  for  a 
few  seconds,  but  the  water  had  continued  to  rush  in,  and 
now,  without  so  much  as  one  last  faint  struggle,  the  Jolly 
Sport  floundered  and  sank. 

"She's  going!"  screamed  Harry. 

"Jump!"  cried  Frank. 

He  saw  them  rise  and  plunge  into  the  cold  water,  and 
then,  with  some  trouble,  he  cleared  the  dripping  sail  that 


In  the  Hour  of  Peril.  181 

sought  to  settle  down  over  his  head  and  drag  him  tinder 
with  the  Jolly  Sport. 

They  were  close  to  the  shore,  else  they  could  not  have 
escaped  even  then.  They  helped  each  other  out,  and 
dragged  themselves  upon  the  bank,  where  they  sank  down, 
panting  and  helpless. 

Beyond  the  mouth  of  the  cove  the  breakers  roared,  and 
now  in  their  clamor  there  seemed  a  note  of  triumph,  as  if 
they  knew  not  all  of  the  crew  on  board  the  Jolly  Sport 
had  escaped. 

And  the  four  water-dripping  lads  who  lay  upon  the 
shore  were  too  numb  for  words.  But  their  hearts  were 
torn  with  grief,  even  though  they  had  reached  solid 
ground,  for  one  of  their  number  was  not  with  them. 

Where  was  he? 

Had  he  been  swept  overboard  by  a  wave  and  carried 
down  without  a  sound? 

It  did  not  seem  possible. 

Frank  was  thinking  of  him.  Where,  when  and  how  had 
it  happened? 

Frank  remembered  that  Bart  had  been  silent  all  along, 
but  he  was  sure  Hodge  had  been  in  the  boat  when  the 
black  schooner  so  nearly  ran  them  down. 

He  was  in  the  boat  after  that.  The  others  remembered 
that  he  had  helped  them  bail. 

The  mystery  of  his  disappearance  was  appalling.  It 
crushed  down  upon  them  all  like  some  mighty  weight. 

He  had  helped  them  bail.  Frank  kept  thinking  that 
over.  He  understood  Bart  better  than  anyone  else,  and 
he  knew  Hodge  had  realized  that  the  Jolly  Sport  was 
overloaded. 

Then  came  a  thought  to  Frank  that  brought  an  ex- 
clamation from  his  lips. 

"Did  he  jump  overboard  purposely?" 

That  was  the  question  that  gave  Frank  a  shock.    H« 


1 82  In  the  Hour  of  Peril. 

realized  that  Hodge  might  have  done  so.  Bart  might 
have  felt  that  his  added  weight  was  helping  to  sink  the 
catboat  and  that  the  others  would  stand  a  better  show 
of  reaching  shore  if  he  were  gone.  Then 

Merry  did  not  like  to  think  of  that.  He  did  not  like  to 
fancy  Hodge  slipping  overboard  to  lighten  the  boat  so 
that  the  others  might  have  a  better  chance  to  reach  land. 

Still  he  could  not  help  thinking,  and  his  fancy  pic- 
tured Bart  struggling  with  the  surging  waves,  trying  to 
keep  afloat  a  few  moments,  rising  on  the  crest  of  a  wave 
and  straining  his  eyes  through  the  darkness  for  one  last 
glimpse  of  the  boat  that  contained  his  friends — his  friends 
for  whom  he  had  sacrificed  his  life. 

If  Bart  had  done  such  a  thing,  Frank  was  certain  he 
knew  why.  Merry  had  done  everything  in  his  power  for 
Hodge,  and  Bart  had  felt  his  utter  inability  to  make  re- 
payment. Now  it  was  possible  he  had  sacrificed  his  own 
life  that  Frank  might  possibly  be  saved. 

Such  thoughts  brought  to  Merriwell  the  tenderest 
emotions. 

"Dear,  brave  fellow !"  he  whispered. 

Then  he  murmured  a  prayer,  the  words  being  torn  from 
his  lips  by  the  furious  gale. 

Merry  seemed  to  see  Hodge  feebly  battling  with  the 
waves,  his  strength  failing  him  swiftly.  He  fancied  the 
waves  tearing  at  him,  beating  upon  him,  hurling  him 
down. 

The  last  struggle  had  come  and  passed,  and  the  cruel, 
triumphant,  deadly  sea  rolled  on. 

In  the  morning  they  would  search  for  him  on  yonder 
shore  where  the  white  tigers  were  dancing  and  howling. 
They  would  walk  along  the  shore,  hoping,  yet  dreading, 
to  see  his  white  face  on  the  sand. 

Frank  thought  of  the  time  he  had  first  met  Hodge  at 
Fardale  Station.  They  had  met  as  enemies,  and  Merry 


In  the  Hour  of  Peril.  183 

had  struck  the  proud  and  haughty  lad  who  was  shaking 
a  barefooted  urchin,  after  having  kicked  the  urchin's  dog 
from  the  station  platform. 

Hodge  had  vowed  vengeance,  and  he  had  resorted  to 
questionable  methods  for  obtaining  it;  but  in  everything 
he  had  been  beaten  by  Frank. 

Then  came  the  time  that  Bart  had  realized  the  cow- 
ardice of  his  own  actions  and  Merriwell's  nobility.  Later 
they  had  become  friends,  roommates,  chums.  They  had 
fought  for  each  other,  and  Bart  had  said  more  than  once 
that  he  would  die  for  Frank  Merriwell. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  MYSTERY. 

Huddled  together  on  the  shore,  the  boys  began  to  talk 
it  over.  Rattleton  did  not  remember  seeing  Bart  after 
the  second  appearance  of  the  black  schooner,  while  Dia- 
mond was  sure  Hodge  had  been  with  them  till  they  were 
near  the  mouth  of  the  cove.  All  wondered  why  they  had 
not  seen  him  when  he  plunged  overboard. 

"Perhaps  he  felt  that  he  had  a  better  show  to  get 
ashore  if  he  swam  for  it  than  he  had  if  he  remained  in 
the  boat,"  suggested  Browning. 

"Hodge  was  not  a  fool,"  said  Frank,  a  bit  sharply.  "He 
knew  he  had  no  show  at  all  if  he  left  the  boat." 

"Then  why  did  he  leave  it  ?" 

"That  the  resf  of  us  might  have  a  better  show.  He 
thought  the  boat  would  keep  afloat  longer." 

"Do  you  think  that?" 

"It  seems  that  way." 

They  talked  it  over  and  over,  wringing  the  water  from 
their  clothes.  Despite  the  fact  that  four  of  them  had 
escaped,  all  felt  that  a  frightful  calamity  had  occurred. 
At  one  time  it  had  seemed  there  was  not  one  chance  in  a 
hundred  for  any  of  them  to  escape,  but,  now  they  were 
ashore,  the  horror  of  the  loss  of  a  single  man  made  them 
sick  at  heart. 

"I'll  never  own  another  boat!"  declared  Rattleton. 
"I've  had  enough  of  it." 

A  light  flashed  out  on  the  cove.  It  was  on  board  the 
Tessel  that  they  had  run  against. 

Then  they  spoke  of  her. 


A  Mystery.  185 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Diamond,  "I  believe  I  can  name 
that  vessel." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?"  asked  Harry. 

"Sure." 

"Name  her." 

"Pirate." 

"What?" 

Harry  and  Bruce  uttered  the  exclamation  together. 
Both  were  startled. 

Frank  Merriwell  said  nothing.  Had  he  been  asked  to 
name  the  vessel,  he  would  have  said  the  same  thing. 

"How  can  that  be?"  asked  Harry.  "We  thought  it 
was  the  Pirate  that  came  so  near  running  us  down  on  the 
sound." 

"Perhaps  it  was." 

"Impossible !  She  could  not  be  here." 

"Why  not  ?"  asked  Frank.  "We  ran  into  this  cove,  and 
the  Sport  was  disabled  at  that." 

"But  the  Pirate  is  a  big  vessel." 

"Not  so  very  large." 

"Why  should  she  run  in  here?" 

"There  is  some  mystery  about  her.  Like  Diamond,  I 
think  that  is  the  black  schooner.  She  had  time  to  run  in 
here  and  drop  anchor  ahead  of  us,  and  that's  what  she 
did.  We  know  no  vessel  was  here  when  we  left  the  cove 
this  afternoon.  She  must  have  come  in  since  then." 

"Say,  fellows,"  grunted  Browning. 

"Say  it." 

"I  don't  believe  her  name  is  a  misnomer.  It  strikes 
me  she  is  a  genuine  old  pirate.  If  not,  why  is  she  run- 
ning around  in  this  way  and  taking  such  chances  of  being 
piled  high  and  dry  on  these  islands?  She  came  into  this 
cove  to  hide." 

"The  days  of  pirates  are  past,"  said  Jack. 

"Don't  care,"  growled  Bruce.    "Gapt.  Horn  is  a  pirate 


1 86  A  Mystery. 

chief,  or  he's  the  ghost  of  one,  and  his  old  schooner  is  a 
phantom,  like  the  Flying  Dutchman" 

"She's  a  pretty  solid  phantom,"  said  Frank.  "We 
struck  against  her  and  scraped  her  side." 

"If  that  is  the  Pirate" 

"Hark!" 

The  boys  listened,  and  the  wind  brought  to  their  ears 
sounds  that  interested  them. 

"They  are  lowering  a  boat  out  there,"  said  Frank. 
"Surely  they  are  at  some  unlawful  business,  or  they 
would  not  work  in  the  dark  and  fail  to  display  a  single 
light." 

A  few  moments  later  the  boys  heard  the  sound  of  oars 
clanking  in  rowlocks. 

"Coming!" 

Rattleton  uttered  the  exclamation. 

"Sounds  like  it!"  agreed  Diamond. 

Browning  grunted. 

Merriwell  was  silent. 

The  wind  was  right  for  them  to  hear  any  sound  that 
might  come  from  the  direction  of  the  unknown  vessel,  but 
when  it  rose  to  a  wild  shriek  nothing  but  its  howling 
could  be  distinguished.  When  it  fell,  each  of  the  four 
boys  distinguished  the  sound  of  oars. 

Somehow  there  seemed  something  mysterious  about 
the  movement  of  the  boat.  Each  of  the  listening  lads  felt 
the  mystery,  although  they  could  not  have  told  why. 

Harry's  teeth  chattered.  He  was  cold,  and  he  was 
nervous.  The  events  of  the  night  had  quite  unmanned 
him. 

Clug-dank,  clug-clank,  clug-clank. 

More  than  a  single  set  of  oars  were  being  used.  FranK 
felt  sure  of  that,  for  his  keen  ear  distinguished  some- 
thing in  the  sound  that  settled  the  point  in  his  mind. 


A  Mystery.  187 

The  boat  was  coming  straight  toward  the  point  where 
the  boys  were  crouching  on  the  shore. 

"Pier  is  near  here,"  thought  Frank.  "They're  going 
to  run  in  there  and  get  in  the  lee  of  it.  But  why  are  they 
coming  ashore  in  this  confounded  storm?" 

In  the  teeth  of  the  wind  a  fine  sleet  was  carried.  It 
was  too  cold  for  a  genuine  storm  of  rain,  and  the  sleet 
fell  like  some  particles  of  ice. 

No  wonder  Harry's  teeth  chattered  together. 

"Keep  still,  boys/''  warned  Frank.  "We'll  get  a  loolc 
at  those  fellows." 

"Huah!"  grunted  Browning.  "Don't  know  how  you 
are  going  to  get  a  look  at  anybody  in  this  darkness." 

"They  are  bringing  some  kind  of  a  light." 

"Can't   see  it." 

"They've  got  it  just  the  same." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"Saw  a  gleam  of  it  when  they  were  getting  into  the 
boat." 

"Yes;  but  it  may  have  been  left  on  the  vessel." 

"No ;  I'm  sure  I  caught  a  flicker  after  the  boat  started." 

"Well,  what  sort  of  a  light  is  it  if  we  can't  see  it 
now?" 

"Dark  lantern." 

"Eh?    Great  Scott!" 

All  the  boys,  with  the  exception  of  Merry,  gave  a  start. 
Why  should  the  men  in  the  boat  carry  a  dark  lantern? 

Rattleton,  Browning,  Diamond,  all  three  of  them,  flung 
the  question  at  Frank. 

"I  don't  know,"  confessed  Merry;  "but  it  is  a  part  of 
the  mystery." 

It  added  to  the  keen  interest  with  which  the  boys 
awaited  the  approach  of  the  boat. 

Burglars  carried  dark  lanterns.     Crooks  carried  darR 


1 88  A  Mystery. 

lanterns.  What  sort  of  men  were  these?  What  sort  of 
a  night  expedition  were  they  making  ? 

For  the  moment  the  mystery  surrounding  the  fate  of 
Bart  Hodge  was  forgotten.  The  boys  had  no  thoughts 
for  anyone  or  anything  but  the  approaching  boat. 

The  sound  of  rowing  became  more  and  more  distinct. 

"Changed  now — not  coming  straight  here,"  whispered 
Frank.  "Going  in  at  pier.  I  thought  so." 

Rattleton's  imagination  was  at  work;  strange  fancies 
flitted  through  his  brain. 

"What  if  they  are  kidnapers?"  he  thought.  What  if 
they  had  stolen  that  girl  ?  What  if  they  were  paid  to  put 
her  out  of  the  way?  What  if  they  have  murdered  her 
and  are  bringing  her  ash<-  -<;  to  bury  her  under  cover  of 
darkness,  where  her  body  will  never  be  found.  What 
if " 

That  was  the  limit.  He  did  not  dare  carry  the  spcula- 
tion  any  further.  Already  he  was  gasping  for  breath, 
overcome  with  the  horror  of  the  thought.  The  adventures 
of  the  night  bore  heavily  upon  him.  For  the  first  time  in 
his  life  he  felt  like  a  coward.  He  was  willing  to  keep 
still  and  let  the  men  in  the  boat  go  their  way  and  do  their 
will,  no  matter  what  crime  they  had  perpetrated. 

Frank  did  not  feel  that  way.  His  curiosity  was  fully 
awakened,  and  he  was  eager  to  solve  the  mystery. 

"Come !" 

He  arose  to  a  crouching  posture  and  moved  toward  the 
pier,  stumbling  blindly  over  the  rough  ground. 

Diamond  was  ready  to  follow  anywhere  Merriwell 
migfct  lead,  and  he  followed  close  at  Frank's  heels. 

Rattleton  hesitated.  It  was  not  till  Browning,  with  a 
groan,  arose  and  started  to  follow  the  others  that  he 
seemed  to  awaken  from  the  spell  that  had  fallen  upon 
him. 


A  Mystery.  189 

"Brace  up!"  he  grated.  "What  ails  you?  Are  yott 
going  to  wilt  now  ?" 

He  did  brace  up,  but  he  followed  along  behind  the 
others. 

They  did  not  go  far  before  Merriwell  brought  them  to 
a  stand. 

"They're  landing,"  whispered  Frank. 

The  rowing  had  stopped.  They  could  hear  a  subdued 
murmur  of  hoarse  voices. 

The  boat  had  come  round  under  the  lee  of  the  pier,  and 
the  men  were  coming  ashore. 

As  the  boys  stood  there,  they  again  caught  a  gleam  of 
light — a  moving  ray,  shot  from  a  reflector.  It  was  gone 
in  a  moment,  but  it  had  shown  them  several  figures. 

"Nearer!"  palpitated  Diamond,  eagerly. 

"Dangerous,"  declared  Frank.  "Might  shoot  the  light 
on  us  at  any  moment.  Can't  tell  what  those  men  are 
'doing." 

The  others  felt  that  Merriwell  was  right.  It  might  be 
very  dangerous  to  be  discovered. 

"Shall  we  follow  them?"  asked  Browning,  who  had 
been  awakened  in  a  most  unusual  manner. 

"Perhaps.     Wait  and  see." 

The  wind  howled,  the  fine  sleet  beat  upon  them,  the 
white  tigers  roared  from  the  distant  shore. 

"Down !" 

Merriwell  hissed  the  word,  sinking  to  the  ground.  The 
others  followed  his  example. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Jack,  throbbing  with  ex- 
citement. 

"Coming,"  answered  Frank,  laconically. 

This  was  true.  The  men  had  left  the  pier,  and  they 
were  advancing  toward  the  boys. 

Again  strange  fancies  flitted  through  Harry  Rattle- 


190  A  Mystery. 

ton's  head.  Had  they  been  discovered?  Were  those  men 
coming  to  attack  them?  Were  they  destined  to  soon  be 
engaged  in  a  savage  battle  for  life? 

"If  I  ever  get  out  of  this  scrape,  I'll  let  the  Jolly  Sport 
rest  where  she  is  and  keep  off  the  sound  in  April,"  he 
mentally  vowed. 

"Lay  low !"  hissed  Frank. 

They  flattened  themselves  upon  the  ground,  hearing 
footsteps  close  at  hand.  They  looked  up  and  saw  dark  fig- 
ures passing.  One,  two,  three,  four  of  them. 

"Don't  try  any  funny  business  with  us,  old  man!" 
sounded  a  hoarse  voice.  "Take  us  straight  to  the  spot!" 

"If  he  tries  ter  fool  Capt.  Horn  he's  as  good  as  dead !" 
said  another  hoarse  voice. 

Then  there  was  a  muttering  of  harsh  laughter,  and  the 
four  men  passed  on  into  the  darkness. 

Frank  sat  up,  and  the  others  did  likewise. 

"This  is  interesting!"  Merry  softly  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  very!"  grunted  Browning.  "Give  something  to 
know  what  it  means.  Can  you  tell?" 

"No,"  confessed  Frank.  "All  I  could  make  out  is  that 
three  of  those  fellows  are  making  a  fourth  lead  them 
somewhere." 

"Let's  follow,"  suggested  Diamond.  "Let's  know  what 
they  are  up  to.  What  do  you  say,  Merry?" 

"Just  what  I'd  like  to  do." 

"What's  the  use "  began  Rattleton.  Then  he 

checked  himself,  biting  his  tongue  and  thinking: 

"Don't  be  a  fool !  If  you're  scared,  don't  give  it  away. 
They  may  never  know  it." 

"Come  ahead!" 

Frank  arose  and  took  the  lead.  The  others  trailed  out 
after  him.  He  was  following  the  sailors  through  the 


A  Mystery.  191 

darkness,  and  his  companions  were  following  him.  Not 
one  of  them  knew  what  the  adventure  might  lead  to;  all 
of  them  realized  that  it  might  be  very  dangerous.  They 
were  sure  the  men  ahead  were  desperate  ruffians,  but 
curiosity  overcame  every  other  emotion. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

GHOSTLY    SOUNDS. 

Clank!  clink!  clank! 

"What  are  they  doing?" 

"Digging!" 

The  boys  had  followed  the  men  to  a  lonely  part  of  the 
island,  where  the  wind  howled  through  the  trees  when  it 
came  down  in  fitful  gusts,  or  moaned  when  it  sank  low. 

The  booming  of  the  surf  was  like  the  steady  roar  of 
a  distant  battery  in  action.  The  night  seemed  full  of 
alarms  and  terrors. 

Frank  had  followed  the  unknown  men  with  the  skill  of 
an  Indian  trailer.  The  others  had  followed  him  with  less 
skill,  but  the  sounds  of  the  storm  had  favored  them  by 
drowning  such  noises  as  they  made  while  stumbling 
along  through  the  darkness. 

At  last  the  men  had  stopped,  and,  bit  by  bit,  the  boys 
had  crept  upon  them. 

There  was  a  gleam  of  light  to  guide  them.  The  lights 
came  from  two  dark  lanterns,  the  sides  of  which  had 
been  opened.  The  lanterns  were  held  to  aid  the  men  who 
were  at  work. 

Clink-clank!  clink-clank!  clink-clank! 

One  man  was  plying  a  pick.  After  a  little  he  paused. 

Scrape-swish !  scrape-swish ! 

Another  man  was  using  a  spade,  flinging  out  the  earth 
"Which  the  man  with  the  pick  had  loosened. 

"Digging!"  repeated  Diamond,  in  a  palpitating  whis- 
per. "What  does  that  mean  ?" 

"Digging!"  fluttered  Rattleton.  "Digging  a  gravel" 

"Huah!"  grunted  Browning.    "For  whom?" 


Ghostly  Sounds.  193 

"Somebody !  I  knew  it !  Going  to  bury  that  girl !  She's 
been  kidnaped !  They're  going  to  put  her  out  of  the  way !" 

"How  about  the  man  they  have  with  them — the  man 
they  forced  to  show  them  this  spot?"  asked  Diamond. 
"What  are  they  going  to  do  with  him?" 

"Don't  know.    Kill  him,  too,  perhaps!    Let's  git!" 

"And  leave  him  to  be  killed?"  said  Frank.  "Well,  I 
didn't  think  that  of  you,  Harry !" 

Harry  felt  the  cut  of  the  reproach.  He  choked  as  he 
tried  to  whisper  something  back.  After  a  little,  he  asked: 

"Well,  what  can  we  do?   Tell  me  that." 

"We  can  do  our  best  for  the  man,  if  necessary;  but  I 
do  not  think  it  will  be  necessary." 

"Then  you  think — just  what?" 

"That  you  are  off  your  trolley." 

"How?  Which  way?" 

"I  do  not  believe  they  are  digging  a  grave." 

"Then  what  are  they  doing?  Why  are  they  digging 
that  hole?" 

"They  are  looking  for  a  souvenir." 

"Eh?  Are  you  jollying,  Merry?  A  souvenir  of  what?" 

"Capt.  Kidd !" 

The  others  had  been  listening  eagerly.  Frank's  words 
caused  all  of  them  to  gasp  for  breath. 

"Then — then  you  think  they  are  digging  for " 

"Kidd's  gold !"  finished  Merriwell. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then  Browning 
hoarsely  whispered : 

"That's  it — just  it !   It  explains  everything." 

"Everything  but  the  prisoner.  One  of  those  four  men 
is  not  here  of  his  own  free  will.  That  is  certain." 

"And  the  mystery  of  the  girl  on  board  the  vessel,"  came 
from  Harry.  "It  is  certain  she  is  not  there  of  her  own. 
free  will." 


194  Ghostly  Sounds. ' 

TKere  was  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  the  boys ;  all  were 
satisfied  that  Frank  had  hit  upon  the  truth. 

Harry,  however,  was  no  less  afraid,  for  he  realized 
that,  without  doubt,  the  men  who  had  taken  such  pains 
to  come  there  under  cover  of  the  storm  and  had  brought 
a  captive  with  them  were  ruffians  capable  of  any  des- 
perate deed. 

The  men  worked  steadily.  One  would  use  the  pick  a 
short  time,  and  then  the  other  would  toss  out  the  dirt  with 
the  spade.  Not  one  of  the  four  spoke.  Deeper  and  deeper 
grew  the  hole. 

The  light  fell  on  the  faces  of  the  men  occasionally. 
They  were  rough  and  bearded.  Frank  watched  them 
closely,  and  he  soon  decided  that  one  was  the  man  who 
had  been  at  the  wheel  of  the  black  schooner  when  they 
first  saw  the  vessel  that  day. 

Now  there  was  no  longer  a  doubt  that  the  same  black 
schooner  lay  in  the  cove,  having  run  in  there  under  cover 
of  darkness,  for  all  of  the  frightful  risk. 

The  boys  had  heard  one  of  the  men  speak  to  Capt. 
Horn  as  they  crouched  to  let  them  pass,  and  that  was 
quite  enough  to  settle  the  point. 

Who  was  Capt.  Horn? 

He  was  the  commander  of  the  black  schooner  Pirate, 
but  what  was  his  record  and  his  business.  He  had  looked 
like  a  man  who  would  not  hesitate  to  enter  into  anything 
by  which  it  seemed  likely  he  might  make  money,  no  mat- 
ter how  dishonest  or  dangerous  the  project  might  be. 

Frank  crept  a  bit  nearer  the  four  men,  hugging  the 
ground.  The  others  followed  him. 

Merriwell  remembered  the  stories  he  had  heard  of  other 
attempts  to  recover  Kidd's  buried  treasure — remembered 
how  it  had  been  necessary,  according  to  superstition,  for 
the  treasure  hunters  to  obey  certain  rules.  They  always 


Ghostly  Sounds.  195 

dug  on  a  dark  and  stormy  night,  and  not  one  of  the  party 
could  speak  from  the  time  they  began  to  work  till  the 
treasure  was  found.  If  they  did  speak  the  treasure  would 
turn  to  old  iron  or  vanish  entirely. 

For  some  time  the  boys  watched  the  digging,  wonder- 
ing if  there  was  a  bare  possibility  that,  at  last,  some  one 
had  located  the  spot  where  the  pirate's  treasure  was 
buried. 

The  hole  grew  deeper  and  deeper.  The  two  men  got 
down  into  it,  and  were  hidden  to  their  hips. 

Frank  became  tired.  He  resolved  to  test  the  courage  of 
the  diggers  in  some  manner. 

The  wind  sank  to  a  low  moaning,  but,  from  far,  far 
away  it  seemed  to  bring  a  sound  that  caused  the  men  in 
the  hole  to  start,  stop  digging  and  listen. 

It  was  a  voice  singing,  and  it  seemed  to  be  away  on 
the  distant  cove: 

"Oh,  my  name  was  Capt.  Kidd, 

When  I  sailed,  when  I  sailed; 
And  so  wickedly  I  did, 
When  I  sailed,  when  I  sailed." 

It  was  the  famous  song  of  the  famous  pirate,  and  it 
caused  those  men  to  tremble  in  their  boots.  They  felt  like 
dropping  pick  and  spade  and  taking  to  their  heels,  but 
one  of  the  men  who  stood  above  savagely  motioned  for 
them  to  go  on  with  the  work. 

The  wind  rose  to  a  shriek,  full  of  mockery.  The  surf 
boomed  in  the  distance. 

Slowly  the  sailors  picked  up  the  pick  and  spade  and 
resumed  their  work,  but  they  were  trembling  now. 

The  sound  of  singing  came  nearer  and  nearer,  as  if 
Kidd  himself  were  approaching  the  spot,  singing  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  as  he  advanced. 

The  men  grew  more  and  more  nervous  as  the  soun'd 


196  Ghostly  Sounds. 

came  nearer,  but  still  the  man  above  motioned  for  them 
to  go  on. 

At  last,  when  the  singer  seemed  close  to  that  very  spot, 
the  song  ceased. 

"Thunder!"  muttered  Browning.  "Where  is  that  fel- 
low? Thought  it  must  be  another  one  of  their  gang 
coming." 

"Nothing  of  the  sort,"  whispered  Diamond.  "Didn't 
you  see  how  scared  the  men  digging  were?" 

"Sure." 

"They  would  not  have  been  frightened  if  it  had  been 
one  of  their  own  crowd." 

"That's  so.   Who  was  it,  then?" 

"Capt.  Kidd's  spook/'  suggested  Harry.  "You  know  it 
is  said  his  ghost  haunts  the  place  where  he  buried  his 
treasure." 

"Rot!"  grunted  the  big  fellow.  "Don't  take  stock  in 
spooks." 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  when  the  wind  had  died  once  more 
to  a  low  moaning,  a  wild  burst  of  laughter  was  heard. 
That  laugh  was  full  of  fiendish  glee  and  mockery,  and  it 
seemed  to  come  from  some  vague  point  in  the  very  midst 
of  the  treasure-seekers. 

Then  the  men  in  the  pit  did  drop  their  implements  and 
scramble  out  in  hot  haste.  But  they  were  met  with  a 
revolver  in  the  hand  of  one  of  the  men  above,  and  it 
drove  them  back  to  their  digging. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  Ho!  ho!  ho!" 

Again  the  weird  laughter  sounded,  and  it  seemed  to 
the  excited  imagination  of  the  diggers,  to  come  from  the 
pit  they  had  made. 

But  that  revolver  was  menacing  them,  and  they  dared 
not  leap  to  the  surface  and  take  to  their  heels,  although 
it  was  certain  they  wished  to  do  so. 


Ghostly  Sounds.  197 

Again  and  again  that  laugh  rang  out.  Then  a  deep, 
sepulchral  voice  was  heard  to  say: 

"Fools,  do  ye  think  to  rob  me  now  that  I  am  dead? 
You  shall  find  I  guard  my  blood-stained  gold!  Not  a 
single  piece  shall  you  touch !" 

That  was  quite  enough  to  frighten  any  sailor .  Again 
the  men  in  the  pit  dropped  the  pick  and  spade,  but  they 
seemed  paralyzed  with  fear,  and  stood  there,  staring 
about  with  bulging  eyes. 

"Avaunt!"  cried  the  hollow  voice.  "Flee  from  my 
wrath,  or  ye  shall  feel  the  touch  of  my  dead  hands — the 
touch  of  doom !  That  touch  means  death !" 

A  wild  shriek  broke  from  the  lips  of  one  of  the  diggers. 

"I  feel  it !"  he  screamed.  "He  has  touched  me !  I  am  a 
dead  man !  I  am  doomed !" 

Then,  shrieking  with  terror,  he  leaped  out  of  the  pit 
and  fled. 

That  was  enough  to  completely  unman  the  others,  and 
they  lost  no  time  in  taking  to  their  heels  also. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

PURSUIT. 

Frank  had  caused  all  this  terror.  As  old  readers  know, 
he  was  a  skillful  ventriloquist,  and  he  had  seized  the  op- 
portunity to  work  upon  the  superstitious  fears  of  the 
ignorant  sailors.  With  a  skill  that  was  absolutely  won- 
derful he  had  made  the  singing  seem  to  come  nearer  and 
nearer  till  it  was  close  at  hand,  and  then  he  had  laughed 
so  the  sound  appeared  to  issue  from  the  pit  the  men  had 
dug. 

It  was  sport  for  Frank,  and  he  hoped  to  frighten  the 
men  away  so  completely  that  they  would  abandon  their 
captive.  This,  however,  they  did  not  do.  Capt.  Horn 
kept  a  clutch  upon  the  captive,  whom  he  dragged  along 
as  he  hurried  after  the  fleeing  men,  whom  he  savagely 
cursed  as  poltroons. 

Capt.  Horn  did  not  know  whence  the  ghostly  voice  had 
come,  but,  although  he  was  startled,  the  sound  of  that 
voice  had  added  to  his  belief  that  they  really  were  on 
track  of  the  pirate's  treasure.  He  had  mores  than  half 
expected  something  of  a  weird  and  ghostly  nature  would 
happen,  and  he  had  tried  to  fortify  the  courage  of  his 
companions  so  they  would  keep  at  work  for  all  of  any- 
thing that  might  happen. 

But  those  sailors,  who  had  promised  faithfully  not  to 
desert  him,  were  frightened,  and  they  fled  as  if  the  very 
Old  Nick  was  in  pursuit. 

When  Frank  saw  that  Capt.  Horn  was  dragging  the 
captive  away,  he  leaped  up  and  ran  to  help  the  man ;  but 
the  dark  lantern  was  dropped,  and  both  captor  and  cap- 
tive disappeared  in  the  shadows  beneath  the  trees. 


Pursuit.  199 

Frank  ran  in  the  direction  he  fancied  they  had  taken. 
First  he  tripped  over  a  stone  and  went  sprawling  upon 
the  ground;  but  he  jumped  up  instantly  and  dashed  on 
again. 

Bump — shash — grunt ! 

Frank  was  hurled  down  again,  but  this  time  he  had 
struck  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and  he  was  stunned.  It  was 
some  moments  before  he  oould  recover,  but  still  he  did  not 
give  up  the  hope  of  rendering  the  captive  some  assistance. 

When  he  got  upon  his  feet  he  realized  that  the  chances 
of  overtaking  Horn  and  his  captive  in  the  darkness  was 
slim. 

"Must  do  something,"  he  muttered.  "What?" 

Then  he  thought  of  the  boat. 

"Cut  'em  off !   Perhaps  I  can  do  that.   I'll  try !" 

He  ran  for  the  pier,  hoping  to  get  there  ahead  of  Capt. 
Horn — hoping  Capt.  Horn  and  the  captive  would  be  the 
next  to  arrive  after  he  reached  the  spot. 

Frank's  clothing  was  heavy  with  water,  and  thus  he 
was  hampered.  He  could  not  see  what  lay  before  him, 
and  he  took  chances  of  a  broken  neck.  Two  or  three  times 
he  went  down,  but  he  came  up  again  like  a  bounding  rub- 
ber ball. 

"This — isn't — anything — to — bucking — Harvard's — line 
— in — football — game,"  he  panted. 

He  enjoyed  it.  The  thought  came  to  him  that  he  would 
have  a  jolly  time  telling  the  fellows  of  the  adventure.  For 
one  moment  he  saw  in  his  fancy  a  crowd  of  friends  gath- 
ered in  his  room  eagerly  listening  to  the  narration  of  that 
night's  adventures. 

He  did  not  wait  for  his  friends  to  overtake  him.  He 
had  lost  them  in  the  darkness,  and  he  knew  it  would  not 
do  to  wait. 

In  a  short  UiiiC  he  approached  the  little  steamboat 


200  Pursuit. 

still  running  like  a  racer,  head  up,  and  breathing  through 
his  nostrils. 

"Wonder— if— I'm— ahead." 

He  could  not  tell.  When  he  was  close  to  the  pier,  he 
stopped  and  listened. 

He  heard  nothing  but  the  sweep  of  the  wind  and  the 
boom  of  the  surf. 

"Can  it  be  they  got  here  ahead?  Can  it  be  they  are 
gone  ?" 

He  crept  out  on  the  pier  and  looked  over.  Was  that 
a  boat  under  the  edge  of  the  pier? 

He  let  himself  over,  hung  down,  felt  out  with  his  feet, 
found  the  boat  and  dropped  into  her. 

"This  is  the  one  they  came  ashore  in,"  he  decided.  "It's 
the  only  one  here.  I  am  ahead  of  them." 

The  boat  had  drifted  under  the  pier  when  he  dropped 
into  her.  He  put  his  hands  against  the  wet  and  slimy 
timbers  and  pushed  her  out.  Then  he  started  to  climb 
up  on  the  pier. 

Hark !  Voices  close  at  hand !  The  men  were  coming ! 

He  took  hold  of  the  edge  of  the  timbers  above  and 
pulled  himself  up,  but  the  moment  his  head  rose  above 
the  edge  of  the  pier  he  realized  that  the  men  were  close 
at  hand.  They  were  coming,  and  he  could  not  get  off  the 
pier  before  they  reached  it! 

"Trapped!" 

He  felt  out  with  his  feet,  dropped  back  into  the  boat, 
sat  down. 

Then  it  was  that  Frank  Merriwell's  brain  worked 
swiftly.  What  was  he  to  do?  He  thought  of  several 
things.  His  first  thought  was  to  cut  the  boat  adrift,  push 
it  under  the  pier,  where  they  could  not  find  it,  and  keep 
still.  Then  he  knew  his  friends  would  soon  be  coming 
down  to  that  pier,  and,  if  the  sailors  were  there,  a  collision 
must  take  glace. 


Pursuit.  201 

His  hand  touched  something  in  the  prow  of  the  boat. 

"A  tarpaulin !"  he  whispered. 

With  that  discovery  a  daring  scheme  entered  his  mind. 
Not  one  boy  in  a  hundred  would  have  ventured  to  carry 
it  out  had  he  thought  of  it. 

The  boat  was  fairly  large,  and  there  was  little  danger 
that  one  of  the  four  men  would  be  placed  in  the  bow. 

"Got  to  hustle !"  whispered  Frank,  as  he  heard  the  feet 
of  the  men  on  the  pier  above  his  head. 

He  lifted  the  tarpaulin,  crawled  under  it,  stowed  him- 
self as  closely  as  possible  in  the  forward  end  of  the  boat. 

'Not  a  moment  too  soon. 

There  was  a  tug  at  the  rope,  and  the  boat  was  dragged 
from  beneath  the  pier.  Then  several  cursing,  growling, 
shivering  men  dropped  into  it. 

Capt.  Horn  was  there.  He  snarled  at  everybody,  he 
swore  at  everybody,  he  was  furious. 

"A  lot  of  lubberly  cowards !"  he  raved.  "A  lot  of  fools ! 
You  were  scared  at  nothing !" 

"No,  sir,"  said  a  sullen  voice.    "I  heard  it,  cap'n." 

"An5  I  felt  it's  touch,  cap'n,"  chattered  another,  who 
seemed  almost  overcome  with  terror. 

One  of  the  men  planted  his  heel  fairly  on  Frank's  fin- 
gers, but  Merry  set  his  teeth  and  made  no  attempt  to  pull 
his  hand  away,  although  he  felt  that  his  fingers  would 
be  crushed.  It  was  a  great  relief  when  the  man  removed 
his  foot. 

Capt.  Horn  realized  that  his  men  were  utterly  over- 
come with  fear,  and  so  he  allowed  them  to  push  off  from 
the  pier  and  row  toward  the  black  schooner,  which  was 
hidden  in  the  darkness  of  the  cove. 

The  waves  beat  against  the  boat  with  heavy  thuds,  but 
the  arms  ef  the  sailors  were  strengthened  by  fear,  and 


202  Pursuit. 

ttiey  pulled  lustily,  seeming  in  terror  that  the  ghost  of 
the  pirate  chief  should  follow  them  even  after  they  had 
left  the  island. 

Capt.  Horn  continued  to  curse  and  snarl.  His  captive 
was  silent. 

That  captive  was  a  mystery  to  Frank.  Surely  it  was  not 
the  girl  they  had  seen  on  the  vessel.  It  was  a  man,  but 
not  a  word  had  Frank  heard  him  speak. 

The  thought  that  he  might  be  gagged  came  to  Merri- 
well.  Perhaps  that  was  why  he  remained  so  silent. 

The  schooner  was  reached  at  last.  There  was  a  hail 
from  the  boat,  answered  from  on  deck,  and  then  a  line 
came  down  from  above,  was  caught,  and  they  were  along- 
side. 

Frank  remained  quiet  for  a  little  time  after  the  men 
had  left  the  boat.  At  last,  he  stirred,  for  he  was  in  a 
most  uncomfortable  position,  cramped  and  aching  in  every 
limb. 

With  great  caution,  Merry  pulled  the  tarpaulin  off  hint 
and  got  a  breath  of  fresh  air.  It  had  ceased  raining,  and 
it  did  not  seem  as  if  the  wind  was  blowing  as  hard  as  it 
had  been. 

"Short  storm,"  Frank  decided ;  "but  it  was  long  enough 
to  raise  the  Old  Nick  with  us  and  send  Bart  Hodge  to  the 
bottom.  Poor  Bart !  I'll  never  see  him  more !" 

The  thought  made  Frank  sick  at  heart,  and,  for  some 
moments,  he  remained  there  motionless,  benumbed  by  this 
fresh  sense  of  the  loss  of  his  friend. 

Merry  knew  Bart  had  regarded  him  as  a  hero.  He 
had  reached  out  his  hand  and  steadied  Hodge  more  than 
once  when  the  dark-faced,  passionate  lad  was  tottering 
on  the  brink  of  a  precipice.  His  hand  had  guided  Bart's 
wavering  footsteps  into  the  path  of  honor,  and  for  his 
sake  Hodge  had  studied  for  months  that  he  might  be 


Pursuit.  203 

in  condition  to  pass  the  examination  and  enter  Yale  that 
spring. 

And  now  he  was  gone ! 

No  wonder  Frank  was  sick  and  numb.  After  a  time 
he  aroused  himself  and  sat  up. 

A  short  line  held  the  boat  close  under  the  stern  of  the 
black  schooner,  upon  which  he  could  see  no  sign  of  life. 

"I  might  cast  off  and  slip  ashore  without  a  soul  on 
this  vessel  being  the  wiser,"  he  thought.  "I  could  find 
the  boys  and  bring  them  on  board.  What  could  we  do 
then?  There  are,  at  least,  four  sailors.  There  are  but 
four  of  us.  It  is  a  sure  thing  that  the  sailors  are  armed, 
and  we  are  not.  It's  more  than  even  chances  that  they'd 
do  us  up  in  a  square  fight." 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  decide  he  would  not  be  in  a 
hurry  about  bringing  the  rest  of  the  boys  on  board,  but  he 
resolved  to  go  on  board  himself. 

With  the  aid  of  the  line,  he  pulled  the  boat  close  under 
the  stern  of  the  vessel,  and,  a  moment  later,  he  slipped 
like  a  cat  over  the  rail  of  the  Pirate  and  reached  her  deck. 

Frank  crouched  low  in  the  shadow  of  the  wheel,  listen- 
ing and  trying  to  peer  through  the  darkness.  He  saw  no 
moving  thing.  The  wind  was  whistling  through  the  rig- 
ging of  the  heaving  schooner,  and  a  loose  rope  was  mak- 
ing a  slatting  sound,  but  that  was  all. 

Frank  moved.  He  did  not  stand  upright,  but,  on  his 
hands  and  knees,  he  crept  along  the  deck  toward  the 
companionway.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  the  sound 
of  voices  reached  his  ears. 

"They  are  all  below,"  he  decided. 

The  companionway  was  reached,  and  he  started  to 
slip  down  the  stairs.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  he 
halted  suddenly  and  turned  his  head,  having  heard  a 
sound  behind  him. 


204  Pursuit. 

At  that  very  moment,  with  a  hoarse  shout,  a  man 
sprang  down  the  stairs  and  landed  on  Frank's  shoulders. 

With  a  crash  and  a  bump,  they  went  to  the  bottom 
together.  Frank  received  a  shock  that  robbed  him  of  his 
senses  for  the  moment,  so  that  he  .was  utterly  helpless. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

WHAT    BECAME     OF     BART. 

When  Merriwell  recovered  a  light  was  glaring  straight 
into  his  eyes,  causing  him  to  blink.  He  saw  four  rough- 
looking  men  around  him,  and  realized  that  he  was  in  the 
cabin  of  the  mysterious  vessel. 

One  of  the  men  was  Capt.  Horn,  and,  on  closer  view,  he 
looked  more  the  ruffian  than  he  had  seemed  at  a  distance. 
His  beacd  was  black  as  ink,  while  his  huge  nose  was 
turned  up  and  his  nostrils  were  wide  open,  like  the  mouths 
of  two  black  funnels.  He  showed  his  teeth  as  he  saw  the 
captured  boy  look  up. 

"It  seems  to  be  raining  boys  to-night,"  he  said,  with  a 
sneer.  "Well,  I  can  take  care  of  'em  as  fast  as  they  come." 

Frank  looked  at  the  others,  and  quickly  decided  that 
they  were  fit  followers  for  such  a  captain. 

"Excuse  me,"  he  said,  with  an  effort.  "Just  dropped  in. 
Thought  I'd  come  aboard  and  see  how  much  you'll  ask  to 
take  me  to  New  York.  Must  have  slipped  on  the  stairs — 
or  something.  Don't  seem  to  know  what  happened.  First 
thing  I  knew  I  fell,  and  then — here  I  am." 

"Cute,  ain't  ye!"  sneered  Capt.  Horn.  "Think  you'll 
make  me  swaller  that,  I  suppose !  Think  I'm  a  durned 
fool !  Made  a  mistake  this  time — biggest  mistake  of  your 
life." 

"You  may  be  right,"  acknowledged  Frank,  promptly. 
"It's  just  like  me.  Seems  to  come  natural  for  me  to  make 
mistakes.  Made  a  mistake  when  I  joined  that  picnic  ex- 
cursion. Made  another  when  I  let  the  boat  go  off  without 
me.  And  now  .you  say  I  made  another  when  I  came  aboard 


206  What  Became  of  Bart. 

to  see  if  you  won't  take  me  back  to  New  York.  I  am  get- 
ting it  in  the  neck,  sure." 

"What's  this  you're  trying  to  tell,  anyway?  Spit  it 
out.  How'd  you  happen  to  be  on  the  island?" 

"Came  down  on  an  excursion,  got  leit,  and  here  I  am. 
I'll  pay  well  if  you'll  take  me  to  New  York." 

Capt.  Horn  pulled  his  beard  and  glared  at  Frank. 

"What  sort  of  an  excursion?"  he  asked.  "One  of  the 
regular  kind  from  New  York?" 

"Of  course,"  answered  Frank,  thoughtlessly. 

"You're  a  liar !"  said  the  man  with  the  black  beard,  in- 
stantly. "Knew  it  all  the  time." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Frank.    "You  are  polite." 

"I  saw  you  on  the  small  boat  to-day,"  said  Capt.  Horn. 
"You  wanted  to  come  on  board  then.  How  you  ever  suc- 
ceeded in  doing  so  now  is  more  than  I  can  tell,  but  you'll 
be  sorry  for  it.  When  you  go  back  to  New  York  the  tide 
will  take  you  there." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me?" 

"Feed  you  to  ther  fish,  durn  ye!  It's  no  use  to  ask 
you  questions,  for  you'll  lie  faster  than  I  can  ask  'em. 
Lies  won't  do  ye  no  good." 

"Sorry  about  that,"  was  Frank's  cool  retort;  "but  it'll 
save  me  a  heap  of  trouble  to  invent  'em.  Shan't  have  to 
rack  my  brain  to  get  'em  up." 

Capt.  Horn  looked  at  the  boy  in  astonishment.  Frank 
was  a  cool  customer  for  his  years. 

Merry  was  securely  bound,  as  he  had  already  discov- 
ered. The  men  lifted  him  and  flung  him  into  a  berth, 
where  he  was  left  to  his  thoughts,  which  might  have  been 
more  pleasant. 

Frank's  head  had  been  injured  in  the  fall,  and  it 
throbbed  painfully,  but  he  made  no  murmur. 

The  men  talked  a  while,  and  then  fell  to  playing  cards. 


What  Became  of  Bart.  207 

Three  of  tkem  played,  while  the  fourth  remained  on  deck  to 
watch. 

Frank  could  see  nothing  of  the  captives. 

The  night  wore  on.  Capt.  Horn  arose  and  looked  into 
Frank's  face.  The  boy's  eyes  were  closed,  and  he  was 
breathing  steadily  and  regularly. 

"Never  saw  anything  like  that !"  exclaimed  the  captain. 
"The  youngster  is  asleep !  He  is  a  cool  one !" 

The  watch  on  deck  was  changed,  and  the  men  took 
turns  in  guarding  Frank. 

Toward  morning,  after  going  on  deck,  Capt.  Horn  an- 
nounced that  the  wind  had  changed,  and  they  could  get 
out  of  the  cove. 

Merry  still  seemed  to  be  sleeping  when  all  the  sailors 
went  on  deck  to  get  up  the  anchor  and  make  sail. 

Barely  were  they  gone  when  Frank  was  startled  by  a 
voice  that  called : 

"Hello,  Merry!" 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  Frank.  "Who  are  you?" 

A  head  rose  up  from  the  opposite  berth.  The  light 
shone  full  on  the  face  of  the  person  in  that  berth,  and 
Frank  Merriwell  came  near  shrieking: 

"Bart  Hodge!" 

Frank  was  incredulous.  He  could  not  believe  the  evi- 
dence of  his  eyes.  He  was  almost  inclined  to  think  hinv 
self  staring  at  a  phantom. 

"Hodge — impossible !" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  assured  the  voice  of  Hodge  himself. 
"I  am  here,  but  I'm  tied,  like  yourself,  and  it  strikes  me  we 
are  in  a  mighty  bad  scrape." 

"But — but  we  thought  you  dead,"  said  Frank.  "We 
felt  sure  you  were  dead.  How  do  you  come  to  be  here?" 

"That's  an  easy  one.  When  the  Jolly  Sport  slammed 
up  against  this  vessel  I  thought  she  was  a  goner,  and  I 
made  a  scramble  to  get  on  board  here,  expecting  the  rest 


208  What  Became  of  Bart. 

of  you  to  follow.  I  was  astonished  when  you  failed  to  do 
so,  and  I  looked  down  to  see  nothing  of  the  boat.  She  was 
gone,  and  I  did  not  know  but  what  she  had  gone  to  the 
bottom  with  the  whole  of  you.  They  have  kept  me  here 
ever  since,  for  I  was  knocked  over  and  tied  up  with  ease, 
like  the  fool  that  I  am !  I've  tried  to  get  away,  but  it's  no 
use.  Then  I  heard  you  captured,  and  saw  you  dragged 
in  here." 

This  was  very  astonishing,  but  Frank  Merriwell's  heart 
was  filled  with  thankfulness  to  know  that  Hodge  still 
lived.  Hastily  they  talked  over  what  had  happened  since 
the  Jolly  Sport  was  driven  into  the  cove  before  the  gale. 

"Merry." 

"Yes,  Bart." 

"Got  a  surprise  for  you." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Don't  want  to  tell  you  now,  but  I  know  the  captives — 
Capt.  Horn's  captives.  We  must  do  something  for  them. 
You  are  full  of  schemes,  old  man;  can't  you  plan  some- 
thing now?" 

"I  can  plan  enough,  but  the  trouble  is  to  put  the  plans 
into  execution.  Where  are  the  captives  ?" 

"Beyond  that  door  there." 

Frank  saw  a  door  at  the  farther  end  of  the  cabin.  He 
had  not  noticed  it  before. 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  sailors  came  down  from 
above.  The  sound  of  hoisting  the  anchor  had  stopped,  and 
it  was  evident  that  the  man  popped  down  to  take  a  look  at 
the  captives  and  make  sure  they  were  all  right,  for  he 
stopped  but  a  moment. 

Soon  the  boys  realized  that  the  vessel  was  under  way, 
They  could  tell  by  the  motion. 

Capt.  Horn  came  down. 

"Hello,  cap,"  called  Frank.    "Whither  away?" 


What  Became  of  Bart.  209 

"Out  to  sea,"  was  the  surly  answer.  "Going  to  drop 
you  over  where  it  is  deep." 

"Couldn't  persuade  you  to  change  your  mind  about  that? 
I  don't  want  to  be  dropped  overboard." 

The  man  grunted.  After  a  time  another  man  came  be- 
low. Capt.  Horn  rolled  into  a  bunk  and  slept. 

Frank  strained  and  worked  at  his  bonds.  At  first  it 
seemed  that  he  simply  made  them  cut  deeper  and  deeper 
into  his  wrists  without  loosening  them  in  the  least.  After 
a  time,  he  began  to  fancy  he  was  making  some  progress. 

If  he  could  get  his  hands  free  he  felt  sure  he  would  be 
able  to  liberate  Hodge.  Between  them  they  could  make  a 
fight  for  life  and  liberty. 

Hours  passed.  Capt.  Horn  got  up  and  went  on  deck, 
accompanied  by  the  man  who  had  been  in  the  cabin  with 
him.  Then  the  other  two  men  came  down  and  turned  into 
the  bunks.  They  seemed  exhausted,  and  quickly  fell 
asleep. 

Morning  dawned. 

With  the  coming  of  dawn,  Frank  succeeded  in  getting 
one  hand  free.  Then  it  was  not  long  before  he  was  en- 
tirely free,  and  he  hastened  to  release  Hodge. 

Bart  was  palpitating  with  excitement. 

"What'll  we  do,  Merry?"  he  asked,  in  a  whisper. 

"First  set  the  other  captives  at  liberty,"  said  Frank. 
"We  must  work  lively." 

"Steady,  then,"  warned  Hodge.  "No  matter  whom  you 
see,  do  not  utter  a  cry.  Here,  tie  this  handkerchief  over 
your  face  to  your  eyes." 

"What  for?" 

"So  the  captives  will  not  raise  a  cry  when  they  see  you." 

Both  boys  tied  handkerchiefs  over  their  faces,  and  then 
Frank  approached  the  door.  This  was  bolted  and  hasped. 
There  was  no  lock  upon  it.  It  did  not  take  Frank  long  to 


2io  What  Became  of  Bart. 

shoot  back  the  bolt  and  release  the  hasp.  Then  he  slowly 
opened  the  door,  and  looked  into  the  small  room  beyond. 

An  old  man  was  sitting  helplessly  in  the  corner,  and  a 
young  girl,  pale  and  wan,  with  tangled  curls  of  yellow, 
lay  on  a  bunk.  The  old  man  raised  his  head,  and  the  girl 
looked  up. 

Frank  recognized  them  both,  and,  despite  the  warning 
Hodge  had  given  him,  came  near  uttering  a  shout. 

Before  him  were  Capt.  Justin  Bellwood  and  his  daugh- 
ter, Elsie! 

Elsie  Bellwood  was  there — Elsie,  his  old-time  friend, 
who  was  so  dear  to  him !  She  was  a  captive  in  the  power 
of  those  ruffians ! 

That  thought  was  enough  to  make  Frank  furious  and 
desperate.  He  suddenly  felt  that  he  was  able,  single- 
handed,  to  conquer  all  the  ruffians  on  that  vessel. 

With  his  hand  he  motioned  for  Capt.  Bellwood  and 
Elsie  to  come  forth.  They  realized  that  Frank  was  not  one 
of  the  ruffians,  and  Elsie  sprang  up. 

"Come  out  here,"  whispered  Frank.  "We  want  you  to 
help  us  capture  this  vessel." 

New  life  and  hope  sprang  up  in  the  heart  of  the  old  sea 
captain.  He  responded  eagerly. 

"Here,"  whispered  Merry,  pointing  to  the  sleeping 
sailors,  "watch  those  fellows,  and  do  not  hesitate  to  crack 
them  over  the  head  if  they  awaken.  Take  this  stool,  Capt. 
Bellwood,  and  give  it  to  them  if  necessary.  We  are  going 
on  deck  to  tackle  Capt.  Horn  and  the  other  fellow." 

The  man  nodded.  He  took  the  stool  and  stood  ready. 
Then,  to  Frank's  surprise,  Elsie  picked  up  a  heavy  boot  as 
a  weapon  and  stood  over  the  other  man. 

"Come!"  whispered  Frank. 

With  Hodge  at  his  heels,  he  crept  swiftly  up  the  com- 
panionway.  A  peep  on  deck  showed  him  one  man  at  the 
iwheel,  while  Capt.  Horn  was  near.  The  vessel  was  plan- 


What  Became  of  Bart.  211 

ging  through  a  sea  of  rolling  billows,  the  aftermath  of  the 
storm. 

Capt.  Horn's  back  was  turned. 

"Now  is  our  time !"  hissed  Frank,  as  he  tore  the  hand- 
kerchief from  his  face  and  cast  it  aside,  fearing  it  might 
hamper  him  in  some  way. 

Then  he  leaped  on  deck,  with  Bart  close  behind  him, 
and  they  rushed  at  the  two  men. 

The  man  at  the  wheel  saw  them,  and  uttered  a  cry. 
Capt.  Horn  whirled  in  a  moment. 

With  loud  shouts  the  boys  rushed  forward  and  Bart 
grappled  with  the  sailor  at  the  wheel. 

Horn  managed  to  avoid  Frank's  rush,  and  Merry  saw; 
him  tugging  at  his  hip  pocket.  That  was  enough  to  indi- 
cate that  he  was  trying  to  draw  a  weapon. 

Snatching  up  a  belayingpin,  Frank  did  not  hesitate  in 
attacking  the  ruffian  with  the  black  beard,  who  succeeded 
in  pulling  forth  the  weapon  his  hand  had  sought. 

Before  Capt.  Horn  could  use  the  revolver,  Frank  leaped 
forward  and  struck  the  weapon  from  his  hand.  A  second 
blow,  delivered  with  all  the  strength  and  skill  the  young 
Yale  athlete  could  command,  stretched  the  ruffianly  com- 
mander of  the  Pirate  upon  the  deck. 

A  coil  of  rope  was  close  at  hand,  and,  with  the  aid  of 
that,  Merry  quickly  bound  the  fallen  man.  Then  he  has- 
tened to  the  assistance  of  Bart,  who  was  having  a  fierce 
battle  with  the  other  sailor. 

The  two  boys  succeeded  in  downing  the  ruffian  after  a 
time,  and  then  they  tied  him,  as  they  had  tied  the  captain. 

Frank  secured  Horn's  revolver,  and  Bart  obtained  a 
knife  from  the  other  sailor.  The  wheel  was  set  and  lashed, 
and  then  both  hastened  below. 

Capt.  Bellwood  and  Elsie  were  still  standing  over  the 
sleeping  sailors,  who  had  not  been  disturbed  by  the  encoun- 
ter that  was  taking  place  on  the  deck. 


212  What  Became  of  Bart. 

At  sight  of  Frank,  Elsie  uttered  a  cry  of  amazement  and 
joy,  and  nearly  swooned.  That  cry  aroused  the  men,  but 
when  they  sat  up  one  was  astonished  to  find  himself  looking 
into  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver,  while  the  keen  blade  of  a 
wicked-looking  knife  menaced  the  other. 

They  were  so  astonished  that  they  were  incapable  of 
offering  resistance,  and  were  easily  captured. 

Capt.  Bellwood's  story  was  simple,  but  interesting.  Be- 
ing a  follower  of  the  sea,  it  was  not  strange  that  he  should 
acquire  information  purporting  to  reveal  the  whereabouts 
of  Kidd's  buried  gold.  His  secret  was  known  to  another 
sailor,  and  that  sailor  shipped  with  Capt.  Horn.  Then 
Justin  Bellwood  and  his  daughter  were  lured  to  New  York, 
and  induced  to  board  the  Pirate,  where  they  became  Horn's 
captives.  Horn  knew  every  inch  of  the  sound,  and  he  set 
about  forcing  Capt.  Bellwood  to  reveal  his  knowledge  of 
the  supposed  hiding  place  of  Kidd's  treasure.  Capt.  Horn 
also  made  love  to  Elsie,  nearly  driving  her  mad  with  fear, 
so  that  she  attempted  to  jump  overboard,  an  act  that  was 
witnessed  by  the  boys  on  board  the  Jolly  Sport. 

Fortune  had  worked  in  a  singular  manner  to  bring  about 
the  undoing  of  Capt.  Horn.  When  the  ruffian  and  his 
crew  were  made  secure,  Capt.  Bellwood  took  command 
of  the  Pirate,  running  her  back  into  the  cove  where  Dia- 
mond, Browning  and  Rattleton  were  stranded.  The  re- 
appearance of  the  black  schooner  with  Merriwell  and 
Hodge  on  board  nearly  paralyzed  the  three  lads  with 
amazement.  It  took  considerable  explaining  to  make  clear 
to  them  how  such  a  thing  had  come  about. 

Capt.  Bellwood  carried  the  boys  over  to  New  Haven, 
where  he  turned  Capt.  Horn  and  his  crew  of  ruffians  over 
to  the  authorities.  It  may  be  as  well  to  add  here  that  it 
afterward  developed  that  Horn  was  a  most  notorious  sound 
smuggler.  He  was  tried  and  convicted  and  sent  to  prison. 
His  men  all  received  short  sentences. 


What  Became  of  Bart.  213 

Justin  Bellwood  was  not  able  to  recover  Kidd's  treas- 
ure, although  he  tried  to  find  it.  Filled  with  superstitions, 
he  sometimes  wondered  if  the  treasure  had  not  been  spirited 
away  in  some  uncanny  manner  on  the  night  that  Horn 
tried  to  dig  it  up. 

As  for  the  boys  who  sailed  out  of  New  Haven  harbor 
that  warm  April  day,  they  had  a  story  to  tell  that  was 
marvelous,  and  not  even  Frank  Merriwell's  reputation 
for  veracity  could  make  all  who  heard  it  believe  it  fully. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  LONE  FISHERMAN. 

"Look!" 

"Where  ?" 

"On  the  corner.    It's  another  one  of  them!" 

"It's  Browning!" 

"Sure!" 

"What  is  he  doing?" 

"Fishing,  by  the  Lord  Harry — fishing  in  the  street! 
That  is  the  most  ludicrous  spectacle  yet.  Ha !  ha !  ha !" 

A  burst  of  laughter  came  from  the  little  band  of  stu- 
dents who  had  been  making  their  way  along  one  of  New 
Haven's  principal  streets  and  come  upon  this  astonishing 
spectacle : 

Bruce  Browning  sat  there  on  the  corner,  perched  on  a 
high  stool,  dressed  like  a  fisherman,  with  a  sailor's  "sou'- 
wester" on  his  head,  and  rubber  boots  on  his  feet,  gravely 
pretending  to  fish  in  the  street  with  a  pole  and  line. 

Pedestrians  paused  to  stare,  poke  each  other  in  the  ribs, 
laugh  and  chaff  the  big  fellow  on  the  stool,  but  he  did  not 
heed  them  in  the  least,  calmly  continuing  to  fish,  as  if  he 
expected  at  any  moment  to  feel  a  bite. 

Frank,  Hodge,  Pierson,  Gamp,  Griswold  and  Noon 
were  some  of  the  students  who  had  come  upon  this  sur- 
prising spectacle  while  walking  along  the  street. 

Noon  was  a  prominent  candidate  for  the  position  of 
catcher  on  the  'varsity  ball  team,  but  Hodge  was  coming 
into  notice  through  his  work  on  the  freshman  nine,  and, 
although  he  was  a  freshman,  it  was  rumored  that,  aided 
by  the  influence  of  Frank,  he  stood  a  chance  of  getting 
on  for  a  trial. 


The  Lone  Fisherman.  215 

Joe  Gamp  was  a  big,  awkward  boy  from  New  Hamp- 
shire, who,  for  all  of  the  time  he  had  spent  in  college,  could 
not  drop  the  vernacular  of  the  farm.  To  hear  him  talk 
no  one  could  have  dreamed  he  was  a  college  student,  and 
that  he  stood  well  in  his  class.  And  he  stammered  out- 
rageously. 

"Gug-gug-gug-great  gosh !"  he  cried,  standing  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  and  staring  at  the  fat  youth  on  the 
stool.  "Will  somebody  tut-tut-tell  me  what  in  thunder  it 
mum-mum-mum-means  ?  First  we  saw  a  fuf-fuf-feller 
walkin'  araound  with  his  cuc-cuc-clothes  turned  wrong 
sus-sus-sus-side  out,  then  another  was  bub-bub-bub-barkin* 
like  a  dorg,  another  was  tryin'  to  stand  on  his  head  in  fuf- 
fuf-front  of  the  pup-pup-pup-post  office,  and  here's 
Browning  fuf-fuf-fuf-fuf Here  is  Bur-bub-bub-bub- 
bub I  sus-sus-sus-sus " 

"Whistle,  Joe!"  laughed  Frank.  "Whistle,  quick. 
You're  going  backward,  and  you'll  have  to  say  it  all  over 
if  you  don't  whistle." 

Gamp  whistled. 

•'I  sus-sus-sus" — whistle — "I  say  here's  Browning  tut- 
tut-trying  to  cuc-cuc-cuc-catch  a  fuf-fuf-fuf-fuf" — whis- 
tle— "a  fish  in  the  middle  of  the  sus-sus-street,  just  as  if 
he  was  fishin'  in  the  dud-dud-dud-dud" — whistle — "the 
deep  blue  sea.  I  don't  understand  what  all  this  bub-bub- 
business  is  abub-bub-bout." 

"I  didn't  know  but  the  first  fellow  we  saw  was  doing  it 
on  a  wager,"  said  Bart ;  "but  now " 

"Those  fellows  are  candidates  for  some  society,"  ex- 
plained Pierson.  "They  have  been  commanded  to  do 
those  things,  and  they  dare  not  disobey  if  they  wish  to 
pass." 

"Is  that  it?"  cried  Gamp,  who  was  astonishingly  green 
for  a  Yale  man.  "Well,  dud-dud-darned  if  that  ain't  fuf- 
fuf-f uf-f unny !  A-haw!  a-haw!  a-haw!" 


216  The  Lone  Fisherman. 

He  had  a  laugh  that  was  like  the  braying  of  a  mule, 
and  a  passing  pedestrian  dodged  so  suddenly  that  he 
jumped  from  under  his  hat,  while  an  old  lady  with  an 
umbrella  turned  and  cried : 

"Shoo !    Git  away !    Don't  you  bite  me !" 

She  waved  her  umbrella  in  Gamp's  direction  and  peered 
fearfully  over  her  spectacles,  as  if  she  fully  expected  to  see 
some  fierce  wild  beast  rushing  upon  her. 

That  caused  all  the  other  boys  to  laugh  again,  while  Joe 
paused,  with  his  huge  mouth  wide  open,  and  stared  in  sur- 
prise at  the  excited  and  trembling  old  lady. 

"Hey?"  he  cried. 

"Mercy !"  gasped  the  old  lady.  "I  thought  so.  I  thought 
it  was  a  horse  whickerin'  for  hay." 

Then  she  hurried  on,  while  the  boys,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Gamp,  were  convulsed  with  merriment. 

Joe  stared  after  the  old  lady's  retreating  form,  gasping 
for  breath. 

"First  tut-tut-tut-time  I  ever  was  took  for  a  hoss !"  he 
exclaimed. 

"That's  a  horse  on  you,"  chuckled  Danny  Griswold. 

Despite  himself,  Bruce  Browning  had  not  been  able  to 
keep  from  turning  his  head  a  moment  to  see  what  all  the 
excitement  was  about.  As  he  did  so,  a  street  urchin  slipped 
out  quickly  and  hitched  a  dead  cat  onto  the  end  of  the 
line  that  lay  in  the  street,  losing  not  a  moment  in  scamper- 
ing out  of  sight. 

Bruce  pulled  up  the  line  to  cast  it  out  again,  and  the  cat 
came  with  it. 

Then  there  was  another  shout  of  merriment. 

"Browning  has  met  with  a  cat-astrophe,"  laughed 
Frank. 

"He's  caught  a  cat-fish,"  cried  Danny  Griswold. 

"Spt !  spt !    Me-e-e-ow !    Ma-ri-ar !" 

Danny  Griswold  gave  vent  to  a  perfect  volley  of  cat- 


The  Lone  Fisherman.  217 

calls,  and  there  was  an  uproar  of  mirth  around  that  cor- 
ner. 

Through  it  all  Browning  retained  his  sober  dignity,  re- 
moving the  cat  from  his  hook,  as  if  he  had  captured  a  fish, 
and  flinging  the  line  out  into  the  street  again. 

A  policeman,  who  was  sauntering  along  at  a  distance, 
heard  the  sounds,  and  came  rushing  forward.  He  was  a 
green  man  on  the  force,  and  he  had  not  been  many  moons 
on  this  side  of  the  "pond."  He  had  red  hair,  and  a  face 
that  looked  like  a  painful  accident. 

"Pwhat's  this,  Oi  .dunno?"  he  exclaimed,  bursting 
through  the  crowd  and  halting  so  suddenly  that  he  nearly 
fell  over  himself  when  he  saw  Bruce.  "An'  now  will  yez 
be  afther  tellin'  me  pwhat  ye're  doin'  there  ?" 

Browning  made  no  reply,  but  gravely  pulled  up  his  line, 
looked  at  the  hook,  as  if  to  ascertain  the  condition  of  the 
bait,  and  again  made  a  cast  into  the  street. 

The  little  Irishman  grew  red  in  the  face. 

"Look  here,  me  foine  b'y!"  he  cried,  flourishing  his 
stick ;  "it's  the  magisty  av  th'  law  Oi  ripresint,  an'  Oi  do  be 
afther  axin'  ye  a  quistion.  Pwhat  are  yez  doin'  there,  Oi 
want  to  know  ?" 

Bruce  remained  silent. 

The  spectators  looked  on  with  interest,  wondering  what 
the  outcome  would  be. 

The  policeman  came  a  bit  nearer  Bruce,  and  again 
shook  his  stick,  crying: 

"Is  it  a  lunathick  ye  are  ?  It's  a  foine  spictacle  ye  do  be 
afther  makin'  av  yersilf.  Av  ye  don't  belave  it,  jist  shtep 
over  this  way  an'  take  a  look  at  yersilf  a-sittin'  on  thot 
stool  loike  a  frog  on  a  log.  Get  down  now,  ur  Oi'll  plaze 
ye  under  arrist!" 

Browning  did  not  heed. 

"It's  me  duty  Oi'll  have  to  do,"  declared  the  officer,  as 
he  advanced  on  the  big  fellow ;  "an'  av  ye  resist  me,  OdTl 


218  The  Lone  Fisherman. 

have  to  club  th'  loife  out  av  yez.  It's  a  lunathick  ye  are, 
an'  Oi  know  it.  Come  along  now,  to  th'  station  house." 

But  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  pulling  the  big  fellow  from 
the  stool,  Browning  gave  him  a  look  that  made  him  stag- 
ger. His  face  worked  convulsively,  and  he  looked  around 
for  assistance. 

"Pull  him  in,  Paddy!"  cried  one  of  several  town  boys, 
who  had  gathered  to  see  the  fun,  and  who  felt  delighted  to 
see  a  student  placed  under  arrest. 

"Thot  Oi  will!"  cried  the  little  cop,  as  he  advanced  on 
Bruce. 

He  caught  the  big  fellow  by  the  collar  and  yanked  him 
off  the  stool  in  a  moment. 

"If  it's  a  bit  aff  trouble  ye're  afther  givin'  me,  Oi'll 
crack  yer  shkull  wid  me  shillayly,"  he  declared.  "Come 
on,  now." 

Browning  did  not  wish  to  be  arrested,  so  he  tried  to  ar- 
gue with  the  officer,  but  it  was  useless  to  talk. 

"It's  a  lunathick  Oi  know  ye  are,"  said  the  policeman; 
"an'  it's  not  safe  to  let  yez  run  at  large." 

"Take  your  hand  off  my  collar!"  said  Bruce,  sternly. 
"I  have  done  nothing  to  cause  you  to  arrest  me." 

"Now  none  av  yer  thrits  to  me,  ye  spalpane !"  shouted 
the  policeman.  "Coom  along!" 

He  gave  Bruce  a  yank. 

It  was  a  comical  spectacle  to  see  the  little  red-headed 
cop  yanking  about  the  giant  of  the  college,  but  it  did  not 
seem  very  funny  to  Browning. 

"Say,"  he  growled,  thrusting  his  fist  under  the  officer's 
nose,  "if  you  do  that  again,  I'm  going  to  thump  you  once, 
for  luck." 

The  policeman  had  a  violent  temper,  and  very  little 
judgment. 

"Attimpting  to  resist  arrist,  are  yez !"  he  shouted,  and 


The  Lone  Fisherman.  219 

then,  without  another  word,  he  rapped  Bruce  over  the 
head,  bringing  the  big  fellow  to  his  knees. 

Browning  had  not  looked  for  such  a  move,  and  he  was 
so  stunned  that  he  could  not  rise  at  once,  whereupon  the 
policeman  lifted  his  club  again,  as  if  to  hit  him  once  more. 

The  blow  did  not  fall. 

Frank's  hand  caught  the  club  and  held  it  back,  Paul 
Pierson  and  Bart  Hodge  yanked  Browning  to  his  feet, 
Danny  Griswold  gave  the  big  fellow  a  shove,  and  the  voice 
of  Ned  Noon  was  heard  shouting: 

"Git !" 

This  turn  of  affairs  was  not  at  all  satisfactory  to  the 
town  boys,  who  had  been  delighted  when  the  officer  started 
to  arrest  one  of  the  college  lads. 

At  New  Haven  there  is  constantly  more  or  less  feeling 
between  the  town  lads  and  the  students.  Sometimes  this 
feeling  is  so  strong  that  it  is  not  safe  for  a  well-known 
student  to  be  caught  alone  in  town  at  a  late  hour  of  the 
night.  He  is  in  danger  of  being  stoned,  pounded  and 
forced  to  run  for  his  life. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  write  the  feeling  between  the 
college  lads  and  the  "townies"  was  rather  bitter.  Thus 
it  came  about  that,  as  soon  as  Browning's  friends  tried  to 
help  him,  one  of  the  watching  toughs  cried : 

"Come  on,  fellers !  Dey're  helpin'  der  bloke  git  erway. 
It's  our  duty  ter  stop  dat." 

The  gang  didn't  care  anything  for  duty,  but  they  had 
been  called  upon  to  do  a  thing  by  their  leader,  and  they 
'did  not  hesitate  about  jumping  in  to  the  policeman's  aid. 

Thus  it  came  about  that,  in  a  very  few  seconds,  a  small 
riot  was  taking  place  there  on  that  corner,  where,  a  short 
time  before,  all  had  seemed  hilarity  and  good  nature. 

The  little  cop  clung  tenaciously  to  Browning. 

"I  call  on  yez  to  hilp  me  arrist  this  spalpane!"  he 
squealed. 


220  The  Lone  Fisherman. 

"We'll  help  yer!"  declared  the  leader  of  the  town  lads. 

"Yes  you  will!"  flung  back  Bart  Hodge,  the  hot  color 
of  anger  rushing  to  his  face.  "Yes  you  will — not !" 

Then  he  went  at  the  leader  of  the  gang,  and,  before  that 
fellow  was  aware  that  he  was  attacked,  Hodge  cracked 
him  a  blow  between  the  eyes  that  sent  him  sprawling. 

The  downfall  of  their  leader  seemed  to  infuriate  the 
others. 

"Thump  'em !    Hammer  'em !     Slug  'em !" 

Uttering  these  cries,  the  roughs  pitched  into  the  college 
boys.  Fists  began  to  fly,  and  there  was  a  hot  time  on  that 
corner  without  delay. 

The  little  cop  rapped  for  assistance.  While  he  was 
doing  this,  BroAvning  gave  him  a  twist  and  a  fling  that 
broke  his  hold  and  sent  him  flying  into  Bart  Hodge's  arms. 

Hodge  was  thoroughly  aroused. 

"You're  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble,  you  little  red- 
headed fool !"  he  grated. 

Then,  with  a  display  of  strength  that  was  astonishing, 
Bart  lifted  the  officer  and  hurled  him  violently  against  a 
stone  hitch  ing-post.  With  a  gasp  and  a  groan,  the  police- 
man dropped  down  limply  and  lay  on  the  ground  as  if  he 
had  been  shot. 

Bart  was  astonished  by  the  remarkable  manner  in  which 
the  little  man  had  been  knocked  out.  He  paused  and  stared 
at  the  motionless  figure,  a  feeling  of  dismay  beginning  to 
creep  over  him,  for  he  realized  that  his  ungovernable  tem- 
per had  once  again  led  him  to  do  an  act  that  he  would  not 
have  done  in  his  sober  moments. 

"Great  Scott !"  shakily  cried  Ned  Noon.  "You've  killed 
him,  Hodge !" 

Bart  said  nothing,  but  he  felt  a  pressure  about  his  heart 
—a  sickening  sensation. 

It  seemed  that  Noon  was  the  only  one  of  the  party  en- 


The  Lone  Fisherman/  221 

gaged  in  the  struggle  who  witnessed  Bart's  thoughtless  act 
of  anger.  The  others  were  far  too  busy  among  themselves. 

But  all  realized  the  officer  had  rapped  for  aid,  and  they 
knew  other  policemen  were  sure  to  arrive  on  the  spot  very 
soon. 

"Got  to  run  for  it,  fellows !"  panted  Griswold,  as  he  put 
in  his  best  licks.  "Got  to  get  away,  or  we'll  all  be  locked 
up." 

Hodge  plunged  in  to  aid  the  others.  He  was  a  perfect 
tiger.  Not  even  Frank  seemed  to  fight  with  such  fury  and 
be  so  effective.  Bart  bowled  the  "townies"  over  as  if  they 
were  tenpins. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  fight  was  going  in  favor  of 
the  college  men.  Then  another  party  of  students  happened 
along,  and,  at  sight  of  them,  the  town  lads  promptly  scat- 
tered and  ran. 

"Now's  the  time !"  cried  Merry.  "We  want  to  get  out  of 
this  in  a  hurry,  fellows." 

Then  he  saw  the  officer  lying  stretched  on  the  ground, 
and  stared  at  him  in  surprise. 

"What's  the  matter  with  him?"  he  asked. 

"Nothing!"  cried  Hodge,  feverishly.  "He  got  a  crack 
under  the  ear,  and  it  knocked  him  out.  He's  all  right. 
Come  on." 

The  college  boys  lost  no  further  time  in  getting  away. 
They  separated  and  made  their  way  back  to  the  college 
grounds  with  certain  haste. 

As  if  by  general  consent,  they  proceeded  to  Merri well's 
room.  They  found  Frank  there,  making  himself  comfort- 
able while  he  studied,  as  if  nothing  serious  had  happened. 
He  welcomed  them  all  as  they  appeared. 

Pierson  was  the  first,  and  he  was  followed  by  Griswold, 
jvho  strutted  proudly  as  he  entered,  crying : 

"Did  you  see  me  do  'era  up,  fellows  ?    Did  you  see  me 


222  The  Lone  Fisherman. 

lay  'em  out?  Oh,  I'm  a  hot  biscuit  right  out  of  the 
bakery!" 

"Quite  a  little  racket,  eh,  Merriwell,"  smiicj  Pierson. 

"Sure,"  nodded  Frank.  "We  needed  something  to  stir 
up  our  blood.  We  were  getting  stagnant  here  of  late." 

Joe  Gamp  came  lumbering  in. 

"Dud-dud-dud-dog  my  cue-  cuc-cuc-cats !"  he  stuttered. 
"Ain't  seen  so  much  fun  as  that  sence  I  was  a  fuf-fuf- 
freshman.  But  Browning  did  look  comical  up  on  that  sus- 
sus-stool.  A-haw!  ha-aw!  a-haw!" 

Even  as  Gamp  roared  with  laughter,  Bruce  came  slouch- 
ing into  the  room.  He  sat  down  and  kicked  off  the  rub- 
ber boots,  which  were  too  large  for  his  feet,  then  he  flung 
aside  the  "sou'wester,"  removed  his  oilskin  jacket,  and 
stretched  himself  wearily  on  the  couch,  observing : 

"Fishing  is  thundering  tiresome  work." 

"Were  you  doing  it  on  a  wager,  old  man  ?"  asked  Gris- 
wold. 

"No,"  yawned  Bruce ;  "I  was  doing  it  on  a  stool." 

That  was  all  they  could  get  out  of  him.  It  was  plain 
that  he  did  not  want  to  talk  about  it,  and  did  not  mean  to 
talk. 

"Anyway,  we  did  up  the  townies  all  right,"  said  Frank. 
"There  was  some  sport  in  that." 

"Too  much  work,"  grumbled  Bruce.  "Everything  is  too 
much  work,  and  work  was  made  for  slaves." 

Ned  Noon  came  in  and  looked  around. 

"Where  is  Hodge?"  he  asked. 

Bart  was  not  there,  but  they  fancied  he  would  put  in  an 
appearance  very  soon,  so,  while  they  discussed  the  fight 
with  the  "townies,"-  they  kept  looking  for  Hodge. 

But  Bart  did  not  appear. 

"Hope  he  wasn't  pinched,"  said  Frank.  "He's  so  proud 
that  arrest  would  seem  a  frightful  disgrace  to  him." 

There  was  a  queer  look  on  the  face  of  Ned  Noon. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

HODGE     IN     DANGER. 

Frank  was  crossing  the  campus  when  a  voice  called  to 
him: 

"Hey,  Merry,  hold  on ;  want  to  speak  with  you." 

He  looked  around,  and  saw  Danny  Griswold  hurrying 
toward  him.  There  was  a  strangely  serious  look  on  the 
face  of  the  little  fellow,  who  was  of  a  jovial  nature  and 
seldom  inclined  to  take  anything  seriously. 

The  moment  Frank  saw  Danny's  face,  he  realized  some- 
thing was  wrong. 

"What  is  it,  old  man  ?"  he  asked,  as  Griswold  came  up, 
panting. 

"They're  looking  for  the  fellow  who  did  it." 

"Did  what?" 

"Broke  his  ribs." 

"Broke  whose  ribs?" 

"The  cop's." 

"Why,  the  little  fellow  with  the  red  head  and  liver  lace." 

"The  one  who  tried  to  arrest  Browning  ?" 

"Same." 

Frank  whistled. 

"And  his  ribs  were  broken  ?" 

"That's  it.  He  says  it  wasn't  the  big  fellow  who  did  it, 
but  some  other  chap  slammed  him  up  against  a  stone  post 
and  smashed  his  ribs  in.  Officers  have  been  here  trying  to 
locate  the  fellow.  We're  in  danger  of  being  pulled  up  as 
witnesses — or  worse." 

"Accused,  you  mean?" 

"Any  of  us  may  be." 

"Well,  who  did  it,  anyway?** 


224  Hodge  in  Danger. 

"Hodge." 

Frank  started. 

"Hodge?"  he  cried.  "Are  you  sure,  old  man?" 

"No." 

"Then  why  did  you  say  that?" 

"Noon  says  Hodge  slammed  the  cop  up  against  the 
post." 

"Noon  says  so,  eh?    Did  he  see  it?" 

"Says  he  did." 

"And  he  is  talking  about  it  openly?" 

"Don't  know  about  that.    He  talked  to  me  about  it." 

"Anybody  else  present  ?" 

"No." 

"I  must  see  Noon." 

Merriwell  was  aroused,  for  he  realized  that  Bart  Hodge 
was  in  danger.  Were  Hodge  arrested  for  injuring  the  po- 
liceman, and  should  the  charge  be  proved  against  him,  his 
college  career  might  come  to  a  sudden  termination. 

Frank  had  pulled  his  friend  out  of  more  than  one  bad 
hole,  and  he  believed  he  understood  Bart's  nature  pretty 
well.  Hodge  was  again  on  the  high  road  to  an  honorable 
career,  guided  by  Merriwell's  hand,  but  to  thwart  him  at 
the  very  outset  of  his  college  life  would  mean  almost  cer- 
tain ruin. 

Merry's  teeth  came  together  with  a  click  when  he  real- 
ized the  danger  that  menaced  Bart. 

"I'm  afraid  you  made  a  mistake  in  introducing  that 
freshman  to  our  gang,"  complained  Griswold.  "None  of 
the  fellows  cared  to  know  him,  but  they  accepted  him  sim- 
ply because  of  your  friendship  toward  him.  This  is  the 
result." 

Frank  was  not  pleased  by  Danny's  words.  They  did  not 
sound  as  if  they  came  from  the  little  fellow's  mouth. 

"None  of  my  friends  were  forced  to  meet  Bart  Hodge," 
he  said,  quietly.  "Plodge  and  I  were  schoolmates  together, 


Hodge  in  Danger.  225 

and,  when  he  came  to  Yale,  I  was  not  going  to  Be  cad 
enough  to  cut  him  because  he  is  in  a  lower  class  than  my- 
self. I  am  not  built  that  way." 

"Oh,  you  might  have  treated  him  decent,  without  hav- 
ing him  in  your  room  so  much." 

"No,  you  are  mistaken.  At  Fardale  Academy  we  were 
roommates.  What  sort  of  a  fellow  would  I  have  been  had 
I  shown,  when  he  came  to  Yale,  that  he  was  not  wanted  in 
my  room  ?" 

Danny  did  not  answer  the  question,  but  stood  grinding 
his  heel  into  the  ground,  looking  downward. 

"I  trust  you  see  plainly  enough  that  I  did  what  any 
white  man  should  do,  Gris?"  said  Frank,  letting  a  hand 
fall  on  Danny's  shoulder. 

"Oh,  I  am  not  going  to  set  myself  up  as  a  judge  of 
your  actions,"  was  Griswold's  impatient  retort.  "All  I 
know  is  what  it  has  brought  us  to.  If  I  am  pulled  up  and 
forced  to  tell  what  I  know  about  the  way  the  cop  was 
hurt " 

"What  will  you  tell?  What  do  you  know?  You  con- 
fessed to  me  that  you  did  not  see  it." 

Frank  cut  in  rather  sharply,  giving  Griswold  a  start. 
Danny  looked  rattled  and  flushed. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  see  it,  but  Noon  told  me " 

"That  sort  of  evidence  will  not  go,  old  man,  and  you 
should  know  it.  Take  my  advice,  and  keep  still.  This 
business  must  be  hushed  up,  and  it  will  be  the  fellow  who 
talks  too  much  that  will  get  us  into  trouble." 

"What  if  you  are  pulled  up  and  questioned?  Are  you 
going  to  swear  to  a  lie  ?" 

It  was  Frank's  turn  to  flush,  but  the  flush  was  one  of 
indignation. 

"Did  you  ever  know  me  to  lie  ?"  he  asked,  sharply. 

"No,  but  this  is  different,  and " 

"It  will  not  be  necessary  for  me  to  lie  about  this  in  order; 


226  Hodge  in  Danger. 

to  shield  Hodge.  I  did  not  see  anything.  I  did  not  see 
the  cop  injured.  I  can  swear  to  that,  and  it's  all  they'll 
ever  get  out  of  me." 

After  a  moment  of  silence,  Griswold  said : 

"We  may  be  able  to  protect  Hodge  by  keeping  silent,  but 
I  want  to  give  you  some  advice,  Merry.  I  am  serious  now. 
Don't  grin  at  me.  This  is  one  time  in  my  life  when  I  am 
not  thinking  of  anything  funny,  as  the  fellow  said  when 
the  surgeons  were  getting  him  ready  to  cut  off  his  leg. 
If  you  are  wise,  you'll  let  up  on  one  thing  you  have  been 
trying  to  do." 

Frank  could  not  help  grinning  when  he  thought  of  tak- 
ing advice  from  Griswold,  but  he  tried  to  look  serious,  and 
said: 

"Go  on." 

"You  have  been  pushing  Hodge  for  the  nine.  Is  that 
right?" 

"Well,"  admitted  Frank,  "I  have  been  using  my  influ- 
ence to  get  him  on,  for  I  know  he  is  a  corker." 

"Drop  it !"  cried  Danny,  pulling  out  a  package  of  cigar- 
ettes and  extracting  one.  "It  won't  go,  and  you  are  going 
to  get  the  other  candidates  for  the  position  of  catcher  down 
on  you.  Hodge  is  a  very  fresh  freshman,  and  he  does  not 
stand  a  show  of  getting  on  the  nine  this  year." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "I  got 
on  in  my  freshman  year,  if  you  will  remember." 

"I  know,  but  circumstances  brought  that  about.  Yale 
was  in  a  hole  for  pitchers.  You  did  some  clever  twirling 
on  the  freshman  nine,  and  you  were  tried  as  a  desperate 
expedient.  That  is  the  secret  of  your  getting  on  the  'var- 
sity nine  your  first  year  in  college." 

"Well,  Hodge  did  some  clever  backstop  work  last  Satur- 
Iday,  when  the  scrub  played  the  regular  nine.  He  played 
on  the  scrub,  and  he  made  a  better  record  than  either  Noon 
pr  Stone,  who  took  turns  on  the  regulars." 


Hodge  in  Danger.  227 

"Oh,  that  was  a  chance,  and  it  didn't  show  his  mettle, 
for  there  was  nothing  at  stake.  He  had  better  opportuni- 
ties than  the  other  fellows,  that's  all." 

"Come  off !"  cried  Frank,  dropping  into  slang.  "He  did 
better  throwing,  and  he  would  have  caught  every  man  who 
tried  to  steal  second  if  the  pitcher  had  not  been  a  little  slow 
in  his  delivery.  As  it  was,  he  caught  four  men,  while  Noon 
and  Stone  caught  only  one  each.  He  did  not  have  a  passed 
ball,  for  all  that  the  pitcher  was  wild  as  a  hawk,  and  he  got 
three  fine  hits." 

"Two  of  which  were  off  you,  Merry.  That  part  of  it 
didn't  fool  anybody.  Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

Frank  flushed  again. 

"By  that  I  presume  that  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  I 
gave  him  easy  ones,  so  he  might  hit  it  out.  Look  here, 
Gris,  I  have  told  you  that  I  do  not  lie.  Now  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  that  I  did  my  level  best  to  fool  Hodge,  for  he 
had  told  me  that  he  would  bat  my  eye  out.  I  thought  I 
knew  his  weak  points.  I  gave  him  a  high  inshoot,  and 
he  got  a  pretty  single  off  it ;  I  gave  him  one  round  his  an- 
kles, and  he  lifted  it  out  for  three  bags.  The  fellow  who 
says  I  favored  him  in  the  least  says  something  that  is  not 
true." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Danny,  shortly,  "I  am  not  here  to  talk 
baseball.  Anyway,  I  don't  think  Hodge  stands  a  ghost  of 
a  show  to  catch  on.  Noon  is  the  man  who  will  get  there." 

"Nit !"  muttered  Frank,  as  Danny  walked  away,  smok- 
ing. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

NED  NOON  MAKES  AN  OFFER. 

What  Danny  had  said  to  Frank  set  the  latter  to  think- 
ing. Up  to  that  time  he  had  not  been  aware  that  any  of 
his  friends  were  kicking  because  of  his  being  chummy  with 
Hodge. 

Had  Merriwell  been  a  sophomore  and  Hodge  a  fresh- 
man the  situation  would  have  been  altered  materially,  for 
sophomores  and  freshmen  are  natural  enemies,  and  it  is 
regarded  as  a  crime  for  a  soph  to  be  chummy  with  a  fresh. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  more  or  less  friendliness  be- 
tween juniors  and  freshmen.  Juniors  do  everything  they 
can  to  encourage  freshmen  in  their  struggle  against  the 
sophomores,  even  going  so  far  as  to  marshal  them  for  their 
rushes  and  give  them  points  to  be  observed  in  their  strug- 
gles with  the  sophomores. 

It  is  true  that  there  seldom  seems  to  be  any  further  bond 
of  sympathy  between  freshmen  and  juniors  than  the  dis- 
like of  both  for  sophomores.  The  discomfiture  and  down- 
fall of  the  freshmen  arouses  nothing  like  pity  on  the  part 
of  the  juniors ;  more  often  it  causes  the  latter  to  openly  ex- 
press contempt. 

At  first,  the  apparent  friendliness  of  the  juniors  leads 
the  unsophisticated  freshmen  to  think  the  third  year  men 
really  like  them,  and  have  sympathy  for  them ;  but  it  does 
not  take  long  for  the  freshies  to  discover  their  mistake — 
it  does  not  take  long  for  them  to  fTrid  out  they  are  a  thing 
quite  apart  from  the  juniors  in  every  conceivable  manner 
except  their  mutual  dislike  for  sophomores. 

Still,  it  sometimes  happens  that  a  junior  and  a  freshman 
may  become  chums,  while  such  friendliness  between  a 


Ned  Noon  Makes  an  Offer.          229 

freshman  and  a  sophomore  would  be  regarded  as  a  dis- 
grace to  the  latter. 

Frank  had  an  independent  way ;  he  did  not  seem  to  care 
for  traditions  or  precedent.  He  had  shown  that  all  along, 
but  never  so  strongly  as  since  becoming  a  junior.  Almost 
his  first  act  was  to  show  friendliness  toward  a  freshman 
bully,  after  conquering  the  latter  in  a  fair  struggle.  This 
brought  forth  a  howl  from  those  who  believed  the  only 
proper  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to  treat  the  bully  with 
scorn  and  contempt  after  downing  him. 

But  Frank  kept  calmly  on  his  way,  doing  what  he  be- 
lieved was  right,  regardless  of  anything  that  was  said. 

And  now  that  Hodge  was  in  college,  he  had  chosen  to 
accept  Bart  as  a  chum.  If  his  former  friends  did  not  like 
it,  he  could  not  help  it.  He  knew  Bart  Hodge's  nature, 
and  he  knew  Hodge  would  need  to  be  steadied  by  the  hand 
of  a  friend  after  entering  college,  else  he  would  be  certain 
to  fall  under  evil  influences  and  go  wrong. 

Frank  had  used  his  influence  to  get  Bart  on  the  'var- 
sity nine  because  he  believed  Hodge  a  better  backstop  than 
any  of  the  candidates  for  the  position. 

Yale's  catcher  of  the  two  preceding  years  had  gradu- 
ated and  gone  West,  which  left  the  position  vacant. 

Good  pitchers  are  absolutely  necessary  on  a  good  ball 
team,  but  the  work  of  a  good  pitcher  can  be  ruined  by  ft 
poor  catcher.  The  pitcher  shines  as  the  bright,  particular 
star,  but  it  is  the  work  of  the  man  behind  the  bat,  almost 
as  much  as  the  pitcher's  own  skill,  that  makes  him  shine. 

A  good  catcher  steadies  and  encourages  a  pitcher  at  all 
times,  and  particularly  at  such  moments  as  the  game  is 
hanging  in  the  balance  so  that  a  safe  hit  or  a  fumble  may 
win  it  or  lose  it.  At  such  a  time,  if  the  pitcher  has  perfect 
confidence  in  his  catcher,  he  stands  a  good  show  of  doing 
his  level  best ;  but  if  he  lacks  confidence,  he  may  think  the 


230          Ned  Noon  Makes  an  Offer. 

game  is  lost  anyway,  and  fail  to  exert  himself  to  his  ut- 
most. 

Frank  had  first  pitched  to  Bart  on  the  old  Fardale 
Academy  nine,  at  which  time  the  Fardale  battery  was  a 
wonder  and  a  terror  to  the  ball  teams  of  the  surrounding 
country.  Fardale  had  never  lost  a  game  with  Merriwell 
and  Hodge  as  the  battery. 

On  the  sporting  trip  across  the  continent,  Frank  found 
occasion  to  pitch  to  Bart  again,  and  he  discovered  that 
Hodge  had  lost  none  of  his  cunning.  Merriwell's  "Yale 
Combine"  played  against  the  regular  Fort  Worth  profes- 
sionals, Fort  Worth  having  the  famous  "Dad"  Morse  in 
the  box,  and  beat  them  by  the  remarkable  score  of  two  to 
one. 

In  this  game  the  throwing  and  batting  of  Hodge  was  a 
feature,  and  Frank  Merriwell  was  delighted  to  find  Hodge 
in  old-time  form.  On  the  following  day,  Merriwell  and 
Hodge  had  acted  as  battery  for  Fort  Worth,  the  Texans 
easily  defeating  the  Little  Rocks,  who  were  the  leaders 
of  the  Southern  League. 

Frank  had  the  Fort  Worth  papers  containing  records  of 
the  games,  and  he  had  placed  them  before  the  baseball 
committee  and  the  captain  of  the  'varsity  nine,  calling  at- 
tention to  the  fact  that  in  the  two  games  Hodge  had  not 
had  a  passed  ball,  had  not  made  an  error,  had  obtained 
seven  assists,  six  hits  and  two  scores.  A  record  to  be 
proud  of,  considering  the  fact  that  he  was  in  company  that 
was  considered  very  fast. 

But  Hodge  was  a  freshman,  which  counted  against  him 
in  the  eyes  of  the  committee.  The  other  candidates  for  the 
position  were  a  sophomore,  a  junior  and  a  senior.  It  was 
acknowledged  that  the  senior  had  slight  show  of  getting 
on.  It  was  not  his  first  attempt  to  get  under  the  bat.  He 
had  played  an  outfield  position  one  year,  and  had  been 
substitute  catcher  one  year,  but  this  counted  against  him,  if 


Ned  Noon  Makes  an  Offer.          231 

anything,  for  he  had  never  done  anything  particularly 
brilliant. 

The  other  two  men,  however,  Ned  Noon,  the  junior, 
and  Roger  Stone,  the  sophomore,  stood  a  fair  chance  of 
making  the  team.  It  was  whispered  about  that  Noon  had 
some  sort  of  "pull"  with  the  committee,  and  he  was  almost 
sure  to  catch  on,  for  all  that  it  was  thought  Capt.  Hardy 
favored  Stone. 

Hodge  was  called  "MerriweH's  candidate,"  and,  for  all 
of  Frank's  popularity,  for  all  of  the  fact  that  he  was 
looked  on  as  the  mainstay  of  the  nine  that  season,  it  was 
agreed  that  Bart  did  not  have  much  show  of  making  the 
nine. 

Frank,  however,  persisted  in  his  attempt  to  get  Bart  on. 
Up  to  the  time  of  his  talk  with  Griswold  he  had  not  sus- 
pected the  feeling  that  existed  in  relation  to  Hodge.  Now 
he  saw  it  all,  and  he  realized  that  Bart  was  in  double 
danger. 

"He  has  injured  a  policeman,  and,  should  it  become 
known,  some  of  his  enemies  might  hold  it  over  him.  I 
must  have  a  talk  with  him." 

Frank  started  for  Farnham  Hall  without  delay. 

Just  outside  the  wide  doorway,  before  putting  his  foot 
on  the  steps,  he  paused,  brought  to  a  sudden  halt  by  the 
sound  of  voices  within. 

"Noon !"  he  thought. 

Then  he  heard  another  voice. 

"And  Hodge !"  he  added. 

The  rivals  were  standing  just  within  the  doorway,  talk- 
ing earnestly.  Frank  could  see  the  back  of  Bart's  coat. 

The  first  words  that  reached  his  ears  caused  Frank  to 
stop  thus  suddenly. 

"I  tell  you  that  you  are  in  for  it,  Hodge.  You  knocked 
the  cop  out,  and  it  will  go  hard  with  you  if  the  job  is  fas- 
tened upon  you." 


232         Ned  Noon  Makes  an  Offer. 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it  if  it  does,"  said  Bart,  and  there 
was  a  sullen  sound  in  his  voice.  "I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  the 
little  runt,  but  it  was  my  confounded  quick  temper  that 
caused  me  to  fling  him  up  against  the  post." 

"You  made  a  fool  of  yourself,"  declared  Noon,  with  a 
sneering  inflection. 

"Well,  I  don't  need  to  have  you  come  and  tell  me  of 
it!"  cried  Bart,  angrily. 

"If  it  is  known  that  you  did  the  job,  you  stand  a  good 
show  of  being  dropped  from  Yale  with  a  dull  thud." 

Not  a  sound  from  Hodge. 

Merriwell  was  no  eavesdropper,  and  he  started  to  ascend 
the  steps ;  but  he  dropped  back  and  stood  still,  brought  to 
a  stop  by  Noon's  next  words. 

"I  am  the  only  fellow  of  our  crowd  who  saw  you  fling 
the  cop  up  against  the  post.  The  others  were  too  busy  at- 
tending to  the  'townies.'  If  I  keep  still,  you  stand  a  good 
chance  of  escaping;  but,  if  I  tell,  you  are  a  goner.  That 
makes  it  plain  enough  that  I  can  wind  you  up  in  a  moment 
if  I  want  to." 

Frank  would  have  given  something  to  be  able  to  see  the 
expression  on  Bart's  face  when  those  words  were  spoken, 
but  he  could  not  do  so.  Breathlessly  he  awaited  Hodge's 
r  retort. 

"So  that  is  your  game,  is  it  ?"  grated  the  voice  of  Mer- 
ry's Fardale  chum.  "Well,  I  swear,  I  did  not  think  it  of 
you,  and  I  haven't  liked  you,  either !" 

"You  are  shooting  off  too  soon,"  hastily  said  Noon.  "I 
didn't  say  I  had  any  game  at  all,  but  I  wanted  you  to  un- 
derstand just  where  you  stood.  You  can  do  me  a  favor. 
Of  course,  I  would  not  be  mean  enough  to  go  back  on  a 
fellow  who  did  me  a  favor.  Instead  of  that,  I  would  pro- 
tect him,  if  necessary,  by  swearing  one  of  the  'townies' 
knocked  out  the  cop." 

"I  do  not  ask  that  mudh  of  my  friends,  much  less  of 


Ned  Noon  Makes  an  Offer.          233 

you !"  flashed  Hodge.  "If  you  want  to  blow  on  me,  go 
ahead.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  I'll  punch  the  face  off  you 
if  you  do !" 

"You  wouldn't  get  the  chance,"  declared  Noon.  "You'd 
be  pulled  for  assaulting  an  officer  in  performance  of  his 
duty,  and  it  would  go  hard  with  you." 

Again  Hodge  was  silent. 

Once  more  Merriwell  was  on  the  point  of  ascending  the 
steps,  when  Noon  began  again : 

"There  is  no  reason  why  we  should  be  enemies,  Hodge. 
We  should  be  friends " 

"Not  by  a  long  distance !"  exclaimed  Bart,  contempt  in 
his  voice.  "I  know  you  now  too  well  for  that,  Ned  Noon ! 
We  can't  be  friends." 

"Oh,  have  it  as  you  like ;  but  you'll  find  it  for  your  good 
not  to  make  an  enemy  of  me." 

Hodge  uttered  a  scornful  exclamation. 

"Oh,  you  needn't  turn  up  your  nose !"  cried  Noon ;  "for 
you'll  have  to  pull  it  down  again.  I  see  I've  got  to  talk 
straight  to  you.  You  make  me  tired !  For  a  freshman  you 
put  on  too  many  airs.  What  I  want  to  say  is  this:  If  it 
wasn't  for  Merriwell's  influence,  you  would  not  have  a 
ghost  of  a  show  to  get  on  the  nine.  As  it  is,  you  do  not 
stand  much  chance,  but " 

"But  you  are  worried,"  sneered  Bart.  "That  is  re- 
markable." 

"You  do  not  stand  much  chance,"  Noon  repeated ;  "but 
I  shall  stand  a  better  show  if  you  retire,  for  the  only  man 
against  me  who  is  at  all  dangerous  will  be  Stone.  It  is 
easy  enough  for  you  to  get  out.  You  can  tell  Merriwell 
lhat  you  have  decided  not  to  play,  anyhow.  That  will 
settle  it,  if  you  stick  to  it.  If  you  do  that,  I'm  ready  to 
swear  that  I  saw  one  of  the  'townies'  flop  the  little  cop  up 
against  the  post" 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

FRANK  TALKS   PLAINLY. 

Merry  listened  breathlessly  to  hear  what  Hodge  would 
say  to  that. 

There  was  a  few  seconds  of  silence,  during  which 
Frank  fancied  he  could  hear  Bart  breathing  heavily. 
Then  Hodge  spoke,  and  the  scorn  and  contempt  in  his  voice 
was  withering. 

"You  have  proved  yourself  to  be  just  the  cheap  cur  that 
I  thought  you  were  at  first!"  he  said.  "Nobody  but  a 
dirty  dog  would  try  to  get  the  best  of  a  rival  in  such  a 
manner !" 

Frank  felt  like  crying  out,  "Good  for  you !"  but  clasped 
a  hand  over  his  mouth  and  held  back  the  words,  while  he 
laughed  softly  with  intense  satisfaction. 

Noon  uttered  a  curse. 

"Do  you  dare  to  talk  to  me  like  that,  you  miserable 
freshman !"  he  grated.  "Why,  I'll— I'll " 

"What  will  you  do?"  asked  the  voice  of  Hodge,  trem- 
bling with  eagerness.  "I  wish  you  would  do  something! 
I'd  like  to  have  you  lift  your  hand  to  me,  Noon !  I'd  take 
delight  in  soaking  you  just  once,  and  I  do  not  feel  like  it 
as  long  as  you  keep  your  hands  down.  Oh,  do  put  'em 
up !  I  don't  know  but  I'll  let  you  hit  me  once,  if  you  will !" 

Frank  laughed  out  loud,  but  the  excited  lads  within  the 
doorway  did  not  notice  it. 

"That's  Hodge — the  same  old  Hodge !"  thought  Merry. 
"The  blood  in  his  body  is  boiling  now.  He  would  eat 
Noon." 

"Oh,  so  you're  a  fighter!"  sneered  Noon.  "Well,  I  am 
not  going  to  fight  with  you.  I  would  not  disgrace  myself 


Frank  Talks  Plainly.  235 

by  fighting  with  such  a  fellow  as  you  are.  But  I  want 
your  answer." 

"You  shall  have  it.    Here  it  is !" 

A  second  later,  Noon  came  tumbling  down  the  steps,  as- 
sisted by  Bart  Hodge's  boot,  which  struck  with  violence 
beneath  Ned's  coattail,  fairly  lifting  the  fellow  off  his  feet. 
feet. 

"That's  my  answer!"  called  Hodge,  from  the  doorway. 
"Now,  go  ahead  and  do  your  worst,  you  dirty  sneak !" 

Noon  picked  himself  up,  cursing  bitterly.  One  of  his 
hands  was  cut  and  bleeding,  and  the  left  knee  of  his  pants 
was  torn. 

"That  settles  your  hash !"  he  snarled,  shaking  his  fist  at 
Bart,  and  failing  to  observe  Merriwell  in  his  rage.  "I'll 
cook  you  for  that !" 

He  turned  away,  and,  with  a  biting  laugh,  Hodge  dis- 
appeared, ascending  the  stairs. 

Frank  started  after  Noon,  quickly  overtaking  him. 

"I  want  to  speak  with  you,"  he  said,  quietly. 

Noon  started  and  turned  pale.  He  was  tying  a  handker- 
chief about  his  injured  hand. 

"What  do  you  want  ?"  he  huskily  asked. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,  and  I  will  tell  you." 

"I  don't  want  to  stop  here,"  said  Ned,  looking  around. 
"I  have  fallen  and  torn  my  trousers,  besides  hurting  my 
hand  here.  If  you  wish  to  talk  to  me,  you  know  where 
to  find  my  room." 

"I  am  not  going  up  to  your  room,"  said  Frank,  quietly ; 
"and  I  am  going  to  talk  to  you  now.  What  I  have  to  say 
will  not  detain  you  long." 

"All  right,  go  ahead,"  snapped  Ned,  scowling. 

"I  happened  to  see  you  when  you  took  your  tumble," 
said  Frank,  still  speaking  smoothly  and  serenely.  "I  know 
all  about  it,  for  I  overheard  by  accident  some  of  the  con- 
versation between  you  and  Hodge," 


236  Frank  Talks  Plainly. 

Noon's  face  turned  paler  than  it  had  been,  and  he  bit  his 
lip.  Then,  with  a  sudden  effort  at  bravado,  he  snapped : 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"I  heard  your  threat  to  blow  on  Hodge." 

"What  of  that?" 

"You  will  not  blow." 

"By  the  eternal  blazes,  I  will!"  cried  Noon,  his  eyes 
glaring.  "I  will  get  even  with  that  fellow  1" 

"You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort." 

"Who  will  prevent  me?" 

"I  will!" 

The  eyes  of  the  two  met  squarely.  For  some  moments 
Ned  tried  to  look  straight  at  Frank,  but,  after  a  little,  his 
eyes  drooped,  but  he  sneered : 

"You?  I  know  you  are  the  chum  of  that  sneaking 
freshman,  but  I  fail  to  see  how  you  can  keep  me  from 
blowing  on  him." 

"I'll  tell  you  how,"  came  quietly  from  Frank.  "If  you 
blow  on  him,  I  am  going  to  blow  on  you." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"I  mean  that  I  will  tell  what  I  know — what  I  over- 
heard. I  will  tell  how  you  tried  to  frighten  Hodge  into 
giving  up  the  attempt  to  make  the  nine.  How  you  threat- 
ened to  blow  on  him  about  the  affair  with  the  cop  if  he 
didn't  withdraw,  and  how  he  booted  you  out  of  Farnham 
Hall,  as  you  deserved.  How  do  you  like  that  ?" 

"It  won't  save  Hodge,"  muttered  Noon,  sullenly. 

"Perhaps  not;  but  it  will  cook  you.  How  much  show 
do  you  think  you  will  stand  when  it  is  known  that  you 
resorted  to  such  an  expedient  to  get  a  rival  out  of  the  way  ? 
You  will  be  branded  as  a  sneak,  and  your  friends  will 
avoid  you." 

Noon  was  whiter  than  ever. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said*,  "perhaps  my  word  is  as  good 
as  yours." 


Frank  Talks  Plainly.  237 

"Perhaps  so.  If  you  think  so,  go  right  ahead  and  see 
where  you  land.  I'll  go  you  ten  even  that  you  strike  on 
the  back  of  your  neck.  I  know  you  will  not  make  the 
nine.  You  will  defeat  yourself  by  your  own  meanness." 

Frank  was  talking  plain.  He  believed  it  was  necessary 
to  talk  thus  to  a  fellow  like  Ned  Noon.  He  felt  that  Noon 
could  not  be  shamed  into  abandoning  his  plot  against 
Hodge,  but  he  might  be  brought  to  do  so  through  fear. 

Ned  ground  his  teeth,  for  he  began  to  realize  that  Mer- 
riwell  was  right  in  saying  he  could  do  so  much.  Frank 
had  influence,  and  he  would  be  believed. 

"I  am  giving  it  to  you  straight,  Noon,"  said  Merry. 
"Have  a  little  reason.  Do  you  want  to  knock  yourself  out 
just  to  down  a  rival  ?  You  say  Hodge  does  not  stand  much 
of  a  show  getting  on  the  nine.  Then,  if  this  is  the  case, 
you  are  liable  to  beat  him  in  a  fair  and  square  manner.  It 
strikes  me  that  such  a  thing  would  be  far  better  revenge 
than  beating  him  in  a  sneaking  manner.  It  would  be  far 
better  to  beat  him  in  an  honest  struggle  than  it  would  to 
have  him  withdraw  and  thus  give  you  a  better  chance  of 
getting  on  the  nine.  Isn't  that  plain?  If  you  won  over 
him  fairly,  you  would  have  a  chance  to  crow." 

Frank  was  talking  in  his  smoothest  manner,  and  he  was 
making  his  words  count. 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  admitted  Noon,  after  a  time. 
"I  had  not  thought  of  it  in  that  light.  But,  if  I  agree  to 
let  Hodge  alone,  you  must  promise  not  to  tell  what  you 
overheard.  Will  you  promise?" 

"Sure." 

"Then  it's  a  bargain." 

Soon  after  they  separated. 

Frank  sought  the  officer  who  had  been  hurt,  and  found 
him  in  the  hospital.  The  little  Irishman  di9  not  recognize 
'Frank  as  one  of  the  students. 


238  Frank  Talks  Plainly. 

"Mr.  O'Farrel,"  said  Frank,  "I  wish  to  speak  with  you 
concerning  a  matter  of  importance." 

O'Farrel  gave  Merry  a  close  scrutiny. 

"Pwhat's  thot  ye  want  to  spake  about?"  he  asked,  sus- 
piciously. "It's  yersilf  Oi  dunno  at  all,  at  all." 

"My  name  is  Merriwell,"  said  Frank,  "and  I  am  a  stu- 
dent." 

A  look  of  anger  came  into  the  face  of  the  injured  cop. 

"An'  is  thot  pwhat  ye  are  ?"  he  cried,  glaring  at  Merry. 
"May  th'  ould  b'y  floy  away  wi'  all  studints,  yersilf  in- 
cluded !  Divvil  a  bit  av  good  are  they  at  all,  at  all.  Look 
at  me,  mon !  Oi'm  here  fer  doin'  av  me  duty  an'  attimptin' 
to  arrist  wan  av  thim  spalpanes,  bad  cess  to  him !" 

"That  is  what  I  wished  to  see  you  about,  sir,"  said 
Merry,  in  a  manner  that  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  had 
something  he  wished  to  say  to  O'Farrel  in  confidence. 

"Well,  now,  me  b'y,  Oi  dunno  pwhat  ye  want  ter  see 
me  about  thot  fer.  There's  some  av  thim  hillions  thot  Oi'll 
make  sorry  they  iver  bothered  wid  Patsy  O'Farrel  in  th' 
discharge  av  his  duty.  Here  Oi  am  in  bid,  wid  me  body 
bruised,  an'  it's  a  miracle  that  none  av  me  bones  are 
broken." 

Frank  started  slightly. 

"It  was  fortunate  that  none  of  your  bones  were 
broken,"  he  said. 

"But  me  back  is  spraint  so  it  pains  me  th'  whole  toime," 
said  O'Farrel,  hastily. 

"I  believe  it  was  thought  at  first  that  some  of  your  ribs 
were  broken?" 

"Yis,  Oi  thought  so  mesilf,  but  th'  docthers  say  Oi'm 
not  thot  bad  hurrut." 

Frank  drew  a  breath  of  relief,  feeling  thankful,  indeed, 
for  this  knowledge. 

The  little  cop  began  to  scowl  again,  and  pucker  up  his 
homely  face. 


Frank  Talks  Plainly.  239 

"So  it's  a  studint  ye  are?"  he  exclaimed.  "Well,  Oi 
dunno  thot  Oi  want  to  talk  wid  ye  at  all,  at  all." 

"But  I  know  something  you  may  desire  to  know,  Mr. 
O'Farrel." 

"Oi'm  not  sure  av  thot." 

"I  understand  you  are  anxious  to  learn  just  who  it  was 
•that  threw  you  against  the  post  and  injured  you?" 

"Pwhat  av  thot  ?" 

"Perhaps  I  can  tell  you." 

An  eager  look  came  into  the  face  of  the  man  on  the  cot. 

"Av  ye  can  do  thot "  he  began;  then  he  stopped 

short,  showing  suspicion.  "Pwhy  should  ye  be  afther 
doin'  such  a  thing  ?"  he  asked.  "Is  it  not  a  studint  ye  said 
ye  wur?" 

"Yes ;  but  I  might  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know,  just 
the  same." 

"Divil  a  bit  ye  will !  Thim  studints  shtick  by  ache  ither 
too  well  fer  anything  loike  thot.  It's  foolin'  me  ye're 
troying  to  do." 

"You  are  hasty  in  your  conclusions,  sir,"  said  Frank, 
calmly.  "I  know  that,  as  a  rule,  students  stand  by  each 
other;  but  there  are  exceptions  to  every  rule.  Now  it  is 
possible  that,  for  some  very  good  reason,  I  may  wish  to 
divulge  to  you  the  name  of  the  fellow  who  laid  you  up.  It 
is  possible  that  he  is  an  enemy  of  mine,  and  I  am  taking 
this  means  to  hurt  him." 

"Is  thot  it?"  said  O'Farrel,  slowly,  again  keenly  scru- 
tinizing Frank's  face.  "Oi'll  confiss  Oi  didn't  take  ye  fer 
thot  sort  av  a  chap  at  all,  at  all." 

"You  can't  always  tell  what  a  man  will  do  by  the  looks 
of  his  face,"  laughed  Frank,  flushing. 

"An'  ye  want  to  blow  on  another  studint  ?" 

"Well,  I  saw  a  part  of  your  encounter  witK  the  stu- 
dents, and  I  know  who  it  was  that  did  you  up.  If  you  are 


240  Frank  Talks  Plainly. 

going  to  make  it  hot  for  him,  it  is  possible  that  I  will  tell 
what  I  know." 

"Oh,  Oi'll  make  it  hot  fer  th'  spalpane !  An  Oi'll  make 
it  hot  fer  th'  rist  av  th'  gang!  They  intherfered  wid  an 
officer  in  th'  discharge  av  his  duty,  an'  a  sorry  piece  av 
business  it  will  be  fer  thim!" 

"How  long  will  you  be  laid  up,  do  you  know?" 

"A  week,  th'  docthers  say." 

"Perhaps  two  weeks?" 

"Oi  can't  afford  thot.    Oi  have  me  family  to  support." 

"How  much  is  your  salary  a  month  ?" 

O'Farrel  told  Frank. 

"And  you  may  lose  half  a  month's  wages.  That  is 
tough." 

"Sure  an'  it  is !" 

"Now,  Mr.  O'Farrel,"  said  Merry,  in  his  most  suave 
manner,  "there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  misfortune  that  is  a 
blessing  in  disguise.  You  have  no  accident  policy,  and  you 
need  money.  How  would  you  feel  if  you  were  to  receive 
during  the  time  that  you  are  idle  a  sum  every  week  double 
your  regular  salary,  besides  having  all  your  bills  paid  ?" 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

FRANK  AND  THE  POLICEMAN. 

O'Farrel  gasped. 

"Here!  here!  here!"  he  cried;  "don't  be  afther  tryin* 
any  av  yer  funny  thricks  on  me !  Oi  won't  shtand  fer  it !" 

"There  is  nothing  funny  about  this ;  it  is  sober,  serious 
business.  Although  you  have  not  been  long  on  the  force, 
Mr.  O'Farrel,  you  have  distinguished  yourself  by  your 
courtly  bearing,  your  utter  fearlessness  and  your  polite- 
ness to  the  ladies.  You  have  been  a  bright  and  shining  star 
on  the  New  Haven  force,  shedding  brilliant  effulgence 
around  you,  so  that,  although  in  your  modesty  you  were 
not  aware  of  it,  you  were  regarded  with  admiration  and 
esteem  by  a  large  number  of  citizens.  Whenever  you  were 
on  night  duty,  the  belated  citizen  who  passed  over  your 
beat  felt  that  he  was  safe,  for  he  knew  you  were  a  terror 
to  footpads.  In  the  daytime  the  ladies  went  blocks  out  of 
their  way  in  order  to  have  you  escort  them  across  the 
street.  The  moment  it  was  known  that  you  had  been  in- 
jured, there  was  general  sorrow  and  indignation.  Then  it 
was  that  your  friends  showed  themselves,  and  they  have 
raised  a  fund  to  be  paid  you  as  long  as  you  shall  be  in- 
capacitated for  work." 

O'Farrel  nearly  lost  his  breath. 

"In — inca Pwhat's  thot  mane?"  he  gurgled. 

"It  means  as  long  as  you  are  unable  to  perform  your 
duties." 

"Is  thot  it?  Oi  didn't  know  but  it  wur  th'  name  av 
some  new  disease.  You  don't  be  afther  tellin'  me  thot 
th'  citizens  av  New  Haven  are  goin'  to  pay  me  fer  bein* 
hurted?" 


242  Frank  and  the  Policeman. 

"Exactly  that." 

"Oi'll  belave  it  whin  Oi  receive  th'  money." 

"Here  is  your  first  week's  payment,"  said  Frank,  pro- 
'ducing  a  roll  of  bright  new  bills  and  dangling  them  be- 
fore the  officer's  eyes. 

"Let  me  fale  'em,"  said  O'Farrel,  reaching  out. 

"Wait  a  bit,"  said  Frank,  putting  the  money  behind  his 
back.  "There  is  a  condition.  You  can  do  a  certain  person 
a  favor." 

"Oi  thought  there  wur  something  behind  all  thot. 
[Pwhat  shall  Oi  do?" 

"Keep  your  mouth  shut." 

"Kape  me  mouth  shut  ?    How  ?" 

"About  the  manner  in  which  you  were  hurt.  Tumble? 
Catch  on?" 

O'Farrel  looked  doubtful. 

"Oi  dunno,"  he  confessed.  "Will  ye  be  afther  makin* 
it  a  bit  plainer?" 

"That's  easy.  Certain  persons  in  New  Haven — friends 
to  you — are  interested  in  the  chaps  who  were  concerned 
in  this  unfortunate  affair.  They  are  also  interested  in 
you.  They  do  not  wish  you  to  bring  harm  to  the  stu- 
dents, and  they  do  not  wish  you  to  be  at  any  loss  on  ac- 
count of  that  unfortunate  encounter." 

The  injured  man  looked  still  more  bewildered. 

"It's  big  worruds  ye  are  afther  usin'  now,"  he  said, 
hazily.  "Oi'm  worse  mixed  thin  Oi  wur  before." 

"I  am  trying  to  make  it  plain  that  it  is  for  your  interest 
not  to  push  this  matter.  Doctor  says  you  are  not  much 
hurt.  It  was  a  boy  who  hurt  you.  You  are  an  officer,  and 
you  do  not  want  it  known  that  a  boy  without  a  whisker  on 
his  face  did  you  up.  Some  folks  might  think  you  were  no 
good.  The  ladies  who  have  walked  blocks  out  of  their 
way  to  have  you  assist  them  across  the  street  would  turn 
their  backs  on  you.  The  citizens  who  have  felt  perfectly 


Frank  and  the  Policeman.  243 

safe  while  passing  along  your  beat  at  night  would  feel  safe 
no  longer.  Burglars  and  footpads  who  have  trembled  at 
the  mention  of  your  name  would  sneer  at  you.  You  would 
fall  into  deep  disgrace.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  you 
would  be  fired  from  the  force  as  inefficient." 
1  O'Farrel  blinked  and  gasped  again. 

"Begobs !    Oi  niver  thought  av  thot,"  he  muttered. 

"You  can  see  it  plainly  enough  now.  You  must  state 
that  the  fellow  who  slammed  you  against  the  post  was  a 
giant — six  feet  four.  Say  he  caught  you  from  behind. 
Say  another  fellow  hit  you  with  a  baseball  bat.  Say  you 
are  satisfied  you  were  mistaken  in  thinking  them  students. 
Say  they  must  have  been  hoodlums  of  the  town." 

"An'  pwhat  do  Oi  get  f er  thot  ?" 

"This !" 

Again  Frank  flourished  the  money  before  Patsy  O'Far- 
rel's  greedy  eyes. 

"You  get  this  now,"  declared  Frank.  "You  get  as  much 
more  next  week.  You  get  another  lot  the  next  week,  if  the 
doctor  says  you  are  not  fit  to  go  back  to  duty." 

"Begorra !  it's  a  timptation." 

"No  temptation;  an  act  of  friendship  on  the  part  of 
your  friends.     And  your  friends  are  working  for  your 
,good." 

'Twhat  av  they  bring  th'  spalpane  that  did  it  before 
me?" 

"You  must  fail  to  recognize  him.  That  is  easy.  You 
might  say  you  never  saw  him  before.  You  might  call  at- 
tention to  the  fact  that  you  are  an  officer  who  could  handle 
such  a  boy  with  one  hand.  You  might  become  indignant 
to  think  that  anybody  fancied  such  a  boy  could  do  you 
up." 

"It's  a  good  schame;  but  Oi'm  not  sure  this  ain't  a 
thrap." 

Frank  saw  that  he  must  allay  O'Farrel's  suspicions,  and 


244          Frank  and  the  Policeman. 

he  talked  his  prettiest.  When  he  made  the  effort,  Frank 
could  be  extremely  suave  and  persuasive.  Never  in  his 
life  was  he  more  persuasive  than  just  at  that  time.  Occa- 
sionally he  would  flourish  the  bright,  new  bills  before 
O'Farrel's  eyes. 

At  last  the  officer  succumbed.  He  took  the  money,  and 
then  Frank  snapped  out  a  little  book,  saying: 

"Sign  here,  Mr.  O'Farrel." 

"Soign !    Soign  pwhat  ?" 

"Your  name."  - 

"Th'  divvil  Oi  will!  Ye  don't  catch  me  thot  way! 
iWhoy  should  Oi  sign  me  name,  Oi  dunno  ?" 

"Receipt.  That's  all.  Reads  like  this:  'Received  of 
Frank  Merriwell  the  sum  of  twenty-five  dollars,  in  con- 
sideration of  which  I  agree  to  his  proposal/  That's 
simple." 

"It  looks  loike  a  thrap." 

"No  trap." 

"Phwat  av  ye  wur  to  show  thot  recate  against  me  ?" 

"You  could  swear  that  the  proposal  was  any  old  thing. 
If  I  swore  it  was  something  else,  your  word  is  as  good  as 
mine.  As  you  are  an  officer,  it  should  be  a  little  better. 
This  is  a  mere  formality — a  matter  of  business.  I  always 
take  a  receipt  when  I  pay  out  money." 

"It's  an  Oirishman  ye  ought  to  be,  me  b'y,"  declared 
O'Farrel,  admiringly.  "It's  a  slick  tongue  ye  have  in  th' 
head  av  yez." 

Then  he  signed  the  receipt,  and  Frank  left  the  hospital, 
feeling  well  satisfied  with  the  result  of  his  visit. 

"I  believe  Hodge  is  safe  now,"  he  thought. 

He  was  right.  Somebody  "blowed"  on  Hodge,  and 
Bart  was  taken  before  O'Farrel.  The  injured  policeman 
looked  him  over,  and  then  positively  stated  that  Hodge  was 
not  the  one  who  slammed  him  against  the  post.  He  added 
that  he  did  not  remember  Bart  at  all. 


Frank  and  the  Policeman.  245 

Hodge  was  released. 

Ned  Noon  swore  when  he  learned  of  this. 

"Beastly  luck !"  he  grated.  "Thought  I  had  fixed  it  so 
Pledge  would  get  snapped.  That  cop  must  be  a  fool !" 

Others  were  taken  before  O'Farrel,  Browning  among 
them,  but  he  failed  to  say  that  he  recognized  one  of  them. 

The  town  lads  who  had  been  engaged  in  the  affair  kept 
still,  fearing  they  would  get  into  trouble  if  they  came  for- 
ward and  told  what  they  knew. 

All  were  astonished  when  O'Farrel  failed  to  recognize 
Hodge,  for  it  was  not  known  that  Bart  had  been  saved  by 
the  hand  of  a  friend. 

It  was  a  great  relief  for  Hodge,  who  had  feared  the  out- 
come of  his  passionate  act. 

As  often  as  possible  the  regular  nine  and  the  "scrub" 
got  out  for  practice. 

Hodge  had  not  been  given  a  trial  on  the  regulars,  for  all 
of  his  good  work  on  the  scrub  team. 

"We'll  fix  that,  old  man,"  said  Frank  Merriwell.  "Hag- 
gerty  and  Walbert  are  going  to  be  tried  in  the  box  next 
time,  while  I  am  to  pitch  against  the  regulars.  Haggerty, 
you  know,  is  the  little  chap  who  came  here  from  Williams. 
He  pitched  against  Yale  year  before  last,  and  held  Old 
Eli  down  to  seven  singles.  Without  doubt  he  is  a  good 
man.  Walbert  is  an  Andover  man,  who  may  show  up  well, 
although  he  is  rather  new." 

"How  are  you  going  to  fix  the  regulars?"  asked  Bart, 
eagerly. 

"I  am  going  to  pick  the  scrub  to  suit  myself." 

"How  will  you  make  up  the  team  ?" 

''You  and  I  will  make  the  battery,  and  I  shall  put 
Browning  on  first." 

"What?"  shouted  Bart,  astonished.  "You  can't  mean 
it?" 

"Why  not?" 


246  Frank  and  the  Policeman. 

"Why,  he  is  too  lazy  to  draw  his  breath,  to  say  nothing 
of  playing  ball." 

"That's  all  right.    He  will  play  for  me." 

"And  he  will  be  worse  than  a  wooden  man  on  first  bag.'* 

"Not  on  your  life !    I  know  Browning.    He  is  all  right." 

"Can't  see  how  you  can  say  that,  Frank.  His  laziness  is 
something  awful.  He  won't  be  able  to  stir  out  of  his 
tracks  to  stop  a  hit  or  a  wild  throw." 

"Don't  believe  yourself,  my  boy.  You  seem  to  have 
forgotten  that  he  covered  first  for  us  when  we  played 
against  Fort  Worth." 

"No,  I  have  not  forgotten.  But  he  was  in  different 
condition  then.  He  had  worked  himself  down  during  the 
trip  across  the  continent.  There  was  some  life  in  him 
then,  but  now " 

"You  shall  see  there  is  some  life  in  him  now.  I  can 
wake  him  up,  if  anybody  can,  and  I'll  do  it.  He  will  do 
anything  for  me." 

"Perhaps  he  might  if  he  thought  it  of  any  importance, 
but  he  will  not  think  so  about  a  game  against  the  regulars. 
He'll  say  it's  simply  to  give  the  regulars  practice,  and  he 
won't  stir  up." 

"You'll  see  what  he  will  do  after  I  talk  to  him.  He  will 
surprise  you,  and  you  won't  be  the  only  one." 

"All  right;  have  your  own  way.  I  know  you  will,  no 
matter  what  I  say.  Who  are  the  others  ?" 

"Diamond  on  second." 

"He's  all  right." 

"Rattleton  on  third." 

"He's  fair,  but  Flobert  is  a  better  man." 

"I'd  rather  have  Rattleton,  for  he  is  another  fellow  who 
will  break  his  neck,  if  necessary,  for  me.  I  can  get  out  of 
him  all  there  is  in  him,  and  Flobert  sulks  sometimes." 

"All  right.    Suit  yourself.    Who  will  play  short  ?" 


Frank  and  the  Policeman.  247 

"Haven't  decided  on  that  position  yet.  There  are  two 
or  three  to  choose  from." 

"Take  Fales." 

"WhatFales?" 

"Freshman.    Good  player.    I  recommend  him." 

"Well,  we'll  take  Fales  if  you  say  so." 

"Now,  how  have  you  fixed  the  outfield.  Who  is  in 
right?" 

"Tom  Thornton." 

"Goodman?" 

"Pretty  good.  I've  taken  him  for  his  batting.  If  he 
could  play  as  well  all  round  as  he  can  bat,  he'd  be  on  the 
regulars." 

"Middle?" 

"Jones." 

"What,  the  fellow  you  call  Dismal?" 

"Same." 

"Why,  he's  too  sad  and  slow  to  play  ball !" 

"Wait  till  you  have  seen  him.  He  can  wake  up,  and  he'll 
throw  almost  as  well  as  Ephraim  Gallup.  If  he  gets  a 
good  chance,  he'll  surprise  somebody." 

"Who's  the  left  fielder?" 

"Joe  Gamp." 

Hodge  gasped. 

"That  beats  all !"  he  cried.  "Why,  that  fellow  is  a  regu- 
lar blunder-heels.  He  can't  play  marbles !" 

"Wait  and  see.  He'll  be  another  surprise,  or  I'm  mis- 
taken. He  is  a  slugger  with  a  stick,  and  no  mistake.  Tried 
to  fool  him  one  day,  and  he  seemed  able  to  rap  out  any- 
thing I  gave  him.  He  dug  'em  out  of  the  dirt  with  his  bat, 
took  'em  two  feet  off  from  the  base,  and  reached  up  into 
the  air  and  drove  'em  out.  The  pitcher  who  tries  to  fool 
him  will  drop  dead  before  the  game  is  over." 

"Well,"  said  Bart,  slowly,  "you  have  seemed  to  be  a 
pretty  good  judge  of  ball  players,  old  man,  but  I  think  you 


248          Frank  and  the  Policeman. 

are  away  off  this  time.  You  have  named  the  most  con- 
founded aggregation  ever  seen  around  here." 

"The  other  side  will  be  confounded,"  smiled  Frank. 
"Wait  and  see,  old  man.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  do  your 
prettiest." 

"You  may  be  sure  I  will." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

OUT  OF   PRACTICE. 

A  large  crowd  turned  out  to  witness  the  six-inning 
game  between  the  'varsity  nine  and  Frank  Merriwell's 
"scrub"  team.  Yale  was  anxious  about  her  ball  team,  for 
it  was  not  showing  up  as  well  as  it  should,  while  Harvard 
and  Princeton  were  said  to  be  in  prime  condition. 

Despite  his  popularity,  Frank  had  enemies  in  college, 
and  those  enemies  were  circulating  the  report  that  his  arm 
was  "broken,"  that  he  had  a  "dead  wing,"  and  that  his  day 
as  a  pitcher  was  past.  They  declared  Yale  was  leaning  on 
a  broken  reed  when  it  depended  on  Merriwell  to  win 
games. 

There  were  stories  about  the  new  pitchers  to  be  brought 
out  by  Harvard  and  Princeton.  They  were  feared  not  a 
little. 

All  acknowledged  that  Yale  was  in  serious  need  of  a 
first-class  backstop.  Stone  or  Noon  might  develop  all 
right,  but  the  uncertainty  about  them  was  wearing.  Hodge, 
Merriwell's  candidate  for  the  position,  was  sneered  at. 

When  it  was  known  that  Merriwell  would  get  up  a 
"scrub"  team  and  play  the  regulars,  Frank's  enemies  has- 
tened to  say  that  the  time  had  come  when  it  would  be  seen 
how  easy  he  could  be  batted.  They  knew  that,  as  a  rule, 
no  pitcher  who  feels  secure  of  his  position  on  the  regulars 
will  take  the  chance  of  doing  himself  injury  by  pitching 
his  level  best  for  a  "scrub"  team.  Generally,  he  considers 
it  practice  enough  for  the  regulars  if  he  pitches  fairly  well 
and  lets  it  go  at  that.  Frank's  enemies  thought  that  was 
what  he  would  do.  They  knew  little  of  his  plan  to  make 
the  regulars  hustle  to  win  the  game. 


250  Out  of  Practice. 

There  was  much  speculation  as  to  the  exact  make-up 
of  the  "scrub." 

"They   say   Diamond   and  Rattleton  will   play,"   said 
Bink  Stubbs,  speaking  to  Sydney  Gooch.    "They  are  two 
of  Merriwell's  particular  cronies,  you  know,  but  neither 
one  of  them  can  play  fast  ball." 
i     "What  do  you  care  ?"  laughed  Gooch. 

"Oh,  it'll  be  nuts  for  me.  I  hope  the  boys  will  hammer 
Merriwell  all  over  the  lot." 

When  the  "scrub"  appeared  there  were  exclamations 
of  astonishment. 

"Whiskers !"  cried  one.  "Is  this  to  be  a  comedy  game  ? 
There's  Bruce  Browning.  He'll  go  to  sleep  running 
bases." 

"Doing  what  ?"  cried  another.  "You  don't  suppose  he'll 
run,  do  you?  He  wouldn't  run  for  a  doctor  if  a  rattle- 
snake bit  him !" 

"Look!"  shouted  a  third.  "There's  Dismal  Jones! 
Mommer !  But  this  will  be  a  peach  of  a  game !" 

"And  there's  Joe  Gamp!"  gasped  a  fourth.  "When 
did  he  ever  play  ball  ?  Oh,  my !  my !  my !" 

"They've  got  him  to  coach!"  laughed  the  first  speaker. 

Phil  Hardy,  captain  of  the  regulars,  looked  Merriwell's 
nine  over  quizzically. 

"Look  here,  old  man,"  he  grinned,  drawing  Frank  aside, 
"what  sort  of  a  job  is  this?" 

"What?"  asked  Merry,  blankly. 

"We  are  out  here  for  practice,  and  we  want  to  play 
against  a  team  that  will  give  us  some." 

"Don't  let  that  worry  you.  You  are  going  to  get  all  the 
practice  you  want,  captain." 

"But  not  with  that  turnout?" 

"Yes." 

"Rats!" 

"iYou'll  see." 


Out  of  Practice.  251 

"What's  the  use  to  fool !  Why  don't  you  take  the  regu- 
lar 'scrub'?" 

"Because  I  have  a  better  nine." 

Phil  saw,  with  no  little  surprise,  that  Frank  seemed  to 
mean  it. 

"All  right,"  he  said ;  "but  we  are  not  going  to  play  six 
innings  if  this  gets  to  be  too  much  of  a  farce." 

"You  may  stop  any  time  you  like  after  the  third  in- 
ning," smiled  Frank. 

"I  know  you  are  going  to  pitch  against  us,"  said  Phil; 
"but  I  don't  suppose  you  fancy  you  can  play  the  whole 
game  ?" 

"Not  at  all.    You  will  find  there  are  others." 

"Why  don't  you  take  somebody  in  the  place  of  Brown- 
ing? He  will  drop  dead  getting  after  a  ball." 

"Don't  worry  about  Browning.    He's  all  right." 

"I  know  he  was  a  good  man  once,  but  he  has  had  his 
day." 

Frank  smiled  confidently. 

There  was  a  little  preliminary  practice,  as  if  it  was  to 
be  a  regular  match  game.  Frank  got  off  his  sweater  and 
warmed  up  in  earnest,  just  the  same  as  he  would  have 
done  had  he  been  preparing  to  pitch  against  Harvard. 

The  "scrub"  took  the  field  first.  As  they  went  out  scores 
of  students  shouted  at  them  sportively,  and  they  were  the 
butt  of  ridicule. 

"Where  did  you  find  'em,  Merriwell?"  shouted  a  voice. 
"They  are  a  lot  of  flubs !" 

Frank  laughed  easily. 

"Wait  a  little,"  he  advised,  "and  these  flubs  will  give 
you  apoplexy." 

He  looked  his  men  over  to  see  that  they  were  in  proper 
positions,  and  then,  as  Cal  Jeffers,  Yale's  heavy-hitting 
center  fielder,  came  up  to  the  plate,  he  motioned  for  Gamp 
to  move  a  little  farther  back. 


252  Out  of  Practice. 

This  caused  some  laughter,  and  a  voice  cried : 

"What  do  you  want  to  put  him  back  for,  Merriwell? 
He  couldn't  catch  anything,  anyway." 

"Oh,  he  might — by  accident,"  returned  Frank,  who 
seemed  ready  to  talk  to  anybody.  "I  have  known  more 
surprising  things  than  that  to  happen." 

Stubbs  nudged  Sydney  Gooch. 

"He  knows  he's  going  to  be  hammered,"  said  Stubbs. 
"See  him  get  the  fielders  back." 

"I  hope  they  will  hit  every  one  he  throws !"  said  Gooch, 
maliciously,  as  he  fingered  his  throat,  thinking  how  Mer- 
riwell's  fingers  had  felt  there  once  on  a  time. 

Browning  had  slouched  down  to  first  as  if  going  to  his 
own  funeral.  There  was  a  sad  and  hopeless  look  on  his 
face,  that  made  him  look  even  more  dismal  than  Jones. 

Frank  turned  to  look  at  him,  and  then  burst  out  laugh- 
ing heartily. 

"Come,  come,  Bruce!"  he  cried.  "It  isn't  quite  as  bad 
as  that.  Wake  up,  now,  for  I  am  going  to  get  into  gear 
and  shoot  'em  over." 

Browning  said  nothing,  but  his  face  did  not  grow  a 
yvhit  less  dejected. 

JefTers  poised  his  bat,  and  Merriwell  faced  him.  Then 
the  first  ball  was  sent  spinning  toward  the  backstop. 

Jeffers  knew  it  was  a  fine  thing  to  hit  the  first  ball 
pitched,  if  possible,  as  it  made  a  good  showing  for  the 
batter.  He  went  at  this  one. 

He  hit  it! 

Crack ! 

Away  the  ball  sailed,  away  over  the  head  of  the  short- 
stop, away  toward  left  field. 

"I  knew  he  would  do  it!"  cried  Bink  Stubbs,  in  de- 
light. "It  is  a  homer !  Oh,  that  will  nearly  break  Merri- 
jweli's  heart!" 

Down  toward  first  Jeffers  scooted. 


Out  of  Practice.  253 

It  was  seen  immediately  that,  for  all  that  Merriwell  had 
sent  Gamp  back,  the  ball  was  going  far  beyond  the  po- 
sition held  by  the  left  fielder. 

Gamp  turned  and  ran  for  it,  but  the  effort  seemed  a 
waste  of  energy.  The  spectators  laughed  to  see  the  long 
legs  of  the  country  boy  working  furiously  as  he  raced  out 
after  the  ball. 

"If  he  gets  those  feet  going  much  faster,  he  won't  be 
able  to  stop  for  a  week,"  shouted  somebody. 

"What's  he  think  he's  going  to  do?"  laughingly  ques- 
tioned another. 

"He's  playing  chase  with  himself!"  shouted  Sydney 
Gooch. 

Jeffers  reached  first,  and  tore  down  toward  second. 
Surely  it  was  a  home  run.  What  a  blow  for  Merriwell. 

The  ball  was  dropping  now.  Gamp  was  near  it,  but  he 
could  not  touch  it.  He  was  looking  up,  trying  to  locate 
it.  He  looked  over  his  shoulder  and  saw  the  ball. 

Then  he  made  a  last  spurt  that  astonished  everybody. 
Still  the  ball  was  passing  far  over  his  head. 

Safe? 

Not  quite! 

Gamp  was  tall,  and  he  was  running  swiftly.  With  a 
mighty  leap,  he  went  into  the  air  after  the  ball,  still  going 
in  the  same  direction.  He  reached  far  up  with  both  hands 
and 

More  than  a  hundred  spectators  caught  their  breath. 
Some  rubbed  their  eyes  in  amazement.  Some  muttered  ex- 
clamations of  astonishment. 

The  ball  had  struck  in  Joe  Gamp's  hands ! 

"He's  got  it !" 

"He's  caught  it !" 

"Hooray!  hooray!" 

A  few  cheered,  but  the  most  of  those  who  witnessed  the 
phenomenal  catch  were  dumb  with  amazement. 


254  Out  of  Practice. 

For  Gamp  held  the  ball,  having  robbed  Jeffers  of  one 
of  the  prettiest  hits  ever  seen  on  that  ground. 

Frank  Merriwell  laughed. 

"Well,  that's  pretty  good  for  a  lumber-heels,"  he  said, 
with  satisfaction;  "but  I  expected  something  of  the  kind 
from  him." 

Cal  Jeffers  was  disgusted  when  the  coacher  at  third 
stopped  him.  He  could  not  believe  he  was  out. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  he  angrily  cried.  "It's 
a  home  run !" 

"Ought  to  have  been,"  said  the  coach ;  "but  that  long- 
legged  farmer  caught  it.  See,  he's  just  throwing  it  in." 

"He  must  have  picked  it  up,"  said  Jeffers. 

"He  did,"  nodded  the  coach;  "picked  it  up  in  the  air. 
Finest  catch  I  ever  saw." 

"What — he  made  the  finest  catch  you  ever  saw  ?  Come 
off!  This  is  a  jolly !" 

But  Jeffers  found  it  was  no  jolly,  for  the  umpire  de- 
clared he  was  out,  and  he  walked  in  to  the  bench,  railing 
at  the  luck. 

Bink  Stubbs  was  gasping  for  breath.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  could  say  a  word,  and  then  he  faintly  cried: 

"Take  me  home  to  mommer !  It  always  makes  me  sick 
to  witness  a  frightful  accident  like  that." 

"Of  course  it  was  an  accident,"  said  Capt.  Hardy,  who 
was  not  playing,  although  on  hand  in  a  suit. 

"Of  course  nothing  of  the  sort,"  laughed  Frank  Mer- 
riwell. "Might  just  as  well  say  it  was  an  accident  that 
Jeffers  hit  the  ball,  and  I  do  not  claim  that." 

"We  know  that  wasn't  an  accident,"  cried  Sydney 
Gooch,  getting  behind  a  knot  of  students  as  he  shouted  the 
words. 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Bink  Stubbs,  laughing  as  if  it 
was  a  joke;  "that  wasn't  an  accident.  Merry  is  easy. 
They'll  hammer  him  out  of  the  box." 


Out  of  Practice.  255 

He  said  this  openly,  but  Frank  knew  him  well  enough 
to  understand  that  it  was  intended  for  a  sneer.  Bink 
Stubbs  seldom  joked. 

Frank  paid  not  the  least  attention  to  the  cries  of  his 
enemies,  but  caught  the  ball,  which  was  flung  in  to  him, 
and  took  his  position  in  the  box. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

IN  THE  GAME. 

The  regulars  had  been  so  dazed  by  Gamp's  marvelous 
catch  that  not  a  man  had  moved  toward  the  plate,  so  the 
umpire  was  forced  to  call: 

"Batter  up!" 

Hal  Faunce  was  the  next  man  on  the  list.  He  left  the 
bench  and  picked  out  a  bat. 

"I'm  going  to  do  the  same  trick  Jeffers  did,  just  to  see 
if  that  farmer  out  there  in  left  garden  can  repeat  his  trick," 
declared  Faunce.  "Look  out  for  me,  Merriwell." 

"That's  right,"  cried  a  voice  from  the  crowd  of  specta- 
tors; "line  her  out,  Fauncie.  Jeffers  showed  how  easy 
Merriwell  is  to-day.  Anybody  can  hit  him." 

Frank  continued  to  smile,  but,  mentally,  he  exclaimed: 

"Think  so,  my  fine  fellow,  if  you  like !  I'll  have  to  see 
what  I  can  do.  I  know  Hal  Faunce's  weakness,  and  I'm 
going  to  lay  for  him." 

He  sent  in  a  "coaxer"  to  start  with,  but  Faunce  did  not 
try  to  repeat  Jeffers'  trick  by  lining  out  the  first  one 
pitched,  and  the  umpire  called  a  ball. 

The  next  one  was  high,  and  the  umpire  called  another 
ball. 

"Merry  doesn't  dare  to  let  him  hit  it,"  shouted  some- 
body. 

Frank  smiled,  motioning  for  Hodge  to  come  under 
the  bat. 

Bart  walked  down  and  put  on  a  mask.  He  had  not 
smiled  during  all  the  excitement.  His  face  was  unmoved, 
and  he  made  a  strong  contrast  to  Frank  Merriwell,  who 
looked  as  pleasant  as  if  he  were  witnessing  a  free  show. 


In  the  Game.  257 

Taking  his  place  close  under  the  bat,  Bart  signaled  for 
an  out  drop. 

Merry  shook  his  head,  immediately  assuming  a  position 
which  Hodge  understood  to  mean  that  he  would  deliver  a 
high  inshoot. 

In  order  to  make  the  others  believe  he  was  doing  all 
the  signaling,  Bart  made  a  fake  signal,  which  did  not  mean 
anything  at  all. 

With  his  greatest  speed  Frank  sent  a  ball  whistling 
through  the  air.  To  Faunce  it  looked  like  a  high  straight 
one,  and  he  could  "feast  on  that  kind." 

He  struck  with  all  his  strength,  but  the  only  resistance 
met  by  his  bat  was  that  of  the  air,  and  it  was  such  a  sur- 
prise that  Faunce  was  thrown  off  his  feet. 

Plunk ! — the  ball  was  held  in  Bart  Hodge's  glove. 

"One  strike,"  called  the  umpire. 

"Here !  here !  here !"  laughed  Frank.  "Don't  be  trying- 
to  throw  yourself  at  the  ball,  Fauncie.  That  won't  do.  Hit 
it  with  the  bat." 

Faunce  picked  himself  up,  looking  red  and  disgusted. 

"Oh,  I'll  hit  it  next  time !"  he  savagely  declared.  "I'll 
knock  the  peeling  off  it !" 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Frank.  "Knock  the  stitches  out 
of  it — if  you  can.  I  don't  believe  you  can." 

Some  one  in  the  crowd  groaned  derisively. 

"Hello!"  said  Merry,  with  perfect  good  nature.  "Your 
friends  are  groaning  for  you  now,  Hal.  They  know  you 
have  no  show  to  get  a  hit.  Take  my  advice  and  wait  for 
two  more  balls.  Perhaps  I  can't  get  'em  over,  and  you  will 
get  a  life  on  four." 

"Oh,  you  go  to — Chicago !"  flung  back  Faunce,  nettled. 
"I'm  going  to  hit  her  next  time,  and  you  want  to  get  off 
the  earth  if  it  comes  your  way." 

"All  right,  let  her  go." 

Bart  was  ready,  and  Merry  sent  another  ball  flying  ovetr 


258  Jn  the  Game. 

the  plate.  It  was  another  high  inshoot,  and  Faunce 
swung  again,  missing  it  as  cleanly  as  before,  and  nearly 
throwing  himself  down  a  second  time. 

"Two  strikes,"  called  the  umpire. 

Frank  laughed  heartily,  but  Hodge  was  as  mirthless 
and  stern  as  before. 

"What  is  he  doing  with  you,  Faunce?"  cried  Danny 
Griswold,  from  the  seats.  "He  seems  to  be  making  a 
monkey  of  you." 

"I'd  make  a  monkey  of  you  if  I  had  you  by  the  neck, 
you  little  runt!"  muttered  the  batter,  under  his  breath. 

Frank  saw  that  Faunce  was  so  angry  that  he  trembled, 
and  he  felt  that  it  would  be  easy  to  strike  the  fellow  out. 

He  was  right,  for  he  sent  in  a  third  high  inshoot,  and 
the  batter  went  after  it  just  as  hotly  as  he  had  gone  after 
the  others,  missed  it,  and  was  out. 

"Sorry  for  you,  old  man,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "Don't 
believe  I  can  work  that  on  you  again." 

"I  know  you  can't !"  snapped  Faunce,  as  he  walked  to  the 
bench. 

"Costigan,  come  up  and  take  your  medicine,"  laughed 
the  scorer. 

Joe  Costigan,  the  left  fielder,  who  had  played  third  the 
season  before,  advanced  to  the  plate.  He  was  a  stocky 
fellow,  a  reliable  man,  and  a  good  hitter.  It  was  said  that 
he  had  no  weak  points  at  the  bat. 

Merry  gave  him  a  high  swift  one,  and  Costigan  let  it 
pass  for  a  ball.  Then  Frank  made  the  same  motion,  but 
sent  in  a  slop  drop.  Costigan  tried  to  get  under  it,  struck 
too  quick,  and  missed  it. 

"One  and  one,"  called  Capt.  Hardy.  "Merry  is  easy 
fruit  for  you,  Joe." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  muttered  Costigan.  "I  have 
seen  him  fool  too  many  good  men  to  think  him  easy." 

Frank  feared  Costigan  more  than  he  had  Faunce,  al- 


In  the  Game.  259 

though  the  latter  was  the  more  brilliant  hitter.  Costigan 
was  not  puffed  up  with  too  much  confidence  and  he  was  as 
steady  as  a  mill. 

"I'd  give  something  to  strike  him  out,"  thought  Merri- 
well. 

He  tried  to  "tease"  the  batter,  but  Costigan  would  not 
bite,  and  two  more  balls  were  called. 

"Now  you  have  him  in  a  hole,  old  man,"  cried  Phil 
Hardy.  "He's  forced  to  put  it  over." 

Frank  thought  swftly  just  then.  Which  had  he  better 
do,  put  it  over  or  try  a  "fooler  ?"  That  was  a  question  of 
some  moment  just  then.  He  knew  well  enough  that  Costi- 
gan was  the  kind  of  fellow  who  would  take  four,  instead 
of  breaking  his  back  for  a  hit,  and  laugh  as  he  trotted 
down  to  first. 

But  there  was  something  else  to  be  considered.  Costigan 
had  seen  considerable  of  Merriwell's  pitching,  and  he 
knew  Frank  was  at  his  best  when  forced  to  send  them  over. 
Merry  had  great  control,  and  no  one  was  better  aware  of  it 
than  Joe  Costigan.  Frank  decided  that  Costigan  would 
think  that  the  next  one  was  sure  to  be  straight  over  and 
swift. 

"He  will  try  to  line  it  out  if  it  looks  good,"  decided 
Frank. 

Then  he  made  a  delivery  that  seemed  to  put  all  the 
speed  possible  into  the  ball,  which  started  as  if  to  go 
straight  over  the  plate. 

Frank  had  made  no  mistake  in  his  reasoning.  Costigan 
bit,  but,  as  it  was  an  outcurve,  he  did  not  touch  the  ball. 

"Two  strikes !" 

Bart  tossed  the  ball  back  to  Frank. 

Costigan  looked  disgusted,  and  Capt.  Hardy  cried: 

"It  would  have  been  a  ball  if  you  had  waited." 

No  one  knew  that  better  than  Costigan  himself. 

Without  delay  Frank  sent  in  another.  This  time  it  was 


260  In  the  Game. 

an  outcurve,  but  it  was  started  straight  at  the  batter. 
Costigan  was  a  trifle  mixed  and  he  started  back.  Too  late 
he  saw  what  kind  of  a  ball  it  was,  and  weakly  swung  his 
bat  at  it. 

He  missed. 

"Three  strikes — man  is  out,"  called  the  umpire. 

Hodge  flung  down  his  mask  and  sent  the  ball  rolling 
down  toward  the  pitcher's  box,  while  Merriwell  and  his 
"scrub"  team  came  in  from  the  field. 

"Who  said  they  would  bat  me  out  of  the  box?"  laughed 
Merry. 

"Wait,"  grinned  Bink  Stubbs,  trying  to  appear  pleasant 
and  jovial.  "The  game  has  just  begun." 

"That  was  crafty  work,  Merriwell,"  complimented 
Capt.  Hardy.  "I  will  give  you  the  credit  of  that." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Frank,  pleasantly.  "Jeffers  gave  me 
a  shock,  and  that  made  me  brace  up." 

"That  farmer  out  there  on  the  left  lawn  gave  all  of  us 
a  shock,"  said  Hardy.  "How  did  he  catch  that  ball  ?" 

"With  his  hands,"  smiled  Frank. 

"I  didn't  think  he  caught  it  with  his  feet,  but  there  was 
a  time  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  just  as  good  show  to 
catch  it  with  his  feet  as  with  his  hands.  How  did  you 
know  he  could  play  ball  ?" 

"Oh,  I've  talked  with  him  considerable,  and  I  discov- 
ered that  he  knew  all  the  fine  points  of  the  game.  Then  he 
told  me  that  he  used  to  play  on  a  strong  country  team  up 
in  New  Hampshire — sort  of  a  league  team." 

"Huah!"  grunted  Hardy.  "That  would  bar  him  from 
playing  with  Yale,  even  if  he  should  prove  fast  enough. 
Without  doubt  he  has  taken  pay  for  playing." 

"I  don't  know  about  that." 

"It  would  make  him  a  professional,  if  he  had.  Say,  how 
about  that  Fort  Worth  business?  I  understand  you  and 


In  the  Game.  261 

Hodge  played  with  the  team  down  there.  Were  you  paid 
for  it?" 

"Not  a  cent." 

Hardy  looked  relieved. 

"I  was  afraid  you  had  taken  pay,"  he  said.  "If  you 
had  been  that  foolish,  we  would  be  in  a  scrape,  for  you 
might  be  barred  as  an  amateur,  you  know." 

"And  that  would  give  some  of  my  very  particular  friends 
great  satisfaction,"  smiled  Frank.  "But  you  need  not  let 
that  worry  you  at  all.  We  played  with  Fort  Worth  for 
the  sport  of  it,  and  did  not  receive  a  cent  for  doing  so." 

By  this  time  the  regulars  were  in  the  field.  Ned  Noon 
was  behind  the  home  plate,  with  little  Haggerty,  the  Wil- 
liams man,  in  the  box. 

Jones  was  the  first  batter  up  for  Merriwell's  side.  He 
looked  sad  and  heartless  as  he  advanced  to  the  plate. 

Haggerty  flung  his  cap  on  the  ground  by  his  side.  He 
stood  with  his  little  legs  spread,  chewing  gum  rapidly  and 
grinning.  He  was  a  pleasant  little  fellow. 

Ned  Noon  came  up  under  the  bat  at  the  very  start.  It 
was  plain  he  was  going  to  show  what  he  could  do. 

Haggerty  sent  in  a  pretty  one,  and  Jones  stared  in  sur- 
prise when  the  umpire  called  a  strike. 

"Too  bad !"  he  sadly  muttered,  with  a  shake  of  his  head. 
"Didn't  know  it  was  going  over." 

Some  of  the  spectators  laughed  at  him. 

"Look  at  the  ball,  Dismal,"  cried  one,  "and  you  will 
make  it  weep." 

Haggerty  grinned  and  poised  himself  again.  He  made 
a  round  arm  flourish,  and  sent  in  an  outcurve. 

Jones  struck,  but  he  could  not  reach  the  ball  by  a  foot. 

"Two  strikes !" 

The  spectators  began  to  laugh. 

"Wait,"  smiled  Frank.  "He  may  hit  it  all  right." 


262  In  the  Game. 

But  Dismal  was  a  trifle  rattled,  and  he  missed  the  third 
one,  striking  out. 

"Oh,  say,  Merrry!"  exclaimed  Capt.  Hardy,  who  was 
sitting  on  the  bench  at  Frank's  side;  "this  is  going  to  be 
too  much  of  a  farce." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !"  was  Frank's  careless  retort.  "You 
can't  tell  about  that  yet.  You  fellows  may  hold  us  fairly 
good  play,  so  that  there  will  be  some  interest  in  the  game. 
Don't  get  discouraged  as  soon  as  this." 

"Come  off!  You  know  what  I  mean.  That  gang  of 
yours  hasn't  a  show  against  us." 

"Really!  And  you  did  not  score  the  first  time  at  bat! 
Your  crust  surprises  me,  old  man." 

"We  didn't  score  because  that  jay  from  New  Hampshire 
caught  a  ball  by  accident,  and  you  struck  out  the  next  two 
men.  You  can't  keep  that  up." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  either." 

"Say,  you  make  me  tired !"  came  warmly  from  the  cap- 
tain's lips,  for  he  was  aroused.  "If  you  keep  on,  I'll  go  in 
and  take  a  hand  myself." 

"Do  it !  It  will  be  jolly  sport  to  strike  you  out,  captain." 

"Don't  get  the  swelled  head,  Merriwell !  Don't  think  you 
can  strike  everybody  out!  That  is  what  spoils  a  good 
pitcher." 

"You  are  right,  Hardy,"  nodded  Frank,  seriously.  "The 
pitcher  who  is  forever  trying  to  strike  out  every  batter  who 
faces  him  soon  kills  himself.  It  is  the  man  who  holds  them 
down  to  small  hits  who  makes  the  success." 

Hardy  nodded,  cooling  down  somewhat. 

"That  is  sensible  talk,"  he  said.  "I  was  afraid  you  had 
a  bug  in  your  nut.  A  fellow  with  a  bug  is  N.  G." 

Tom  Thornton  followed  Jones.  One  strike  was  called 
on  him,  and  then  he  cracked  out  a  hot  one,  which  the  short- 
stop fumbleri  long  enough  to  let  the  batter  reach  first 


In  the  Game.  263 

Then,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  Joe  Gamp  took  his  place  on 
the  coaching  line  near  first. 

"I  swear  if  he  isn't  going  to  coach!"  cried  a  voice. 
"Well,  this  will  be  a  riot !" 

"A-haw!  a-haw!  a-haw!"  roared  Gamp,  slapping  his 
thigh.  ''If  this  ain't  the  gug-gug-gug-greatest  pup-pup- 
pup-pup-pup-picnic  I  ever  struck !  Why,  this  is  more  fun 
than  chasin'  a  yallar  cuc-cuc-caow  all  over  a  forty-acre  pas- 
ture lot !  A-haw !  a-haw !  a-haw !" 

That  laugh  was  infectious,  others  caught  it,  and  the 
crowd  roared. 

"Fun !"  shouted  Harry  Rattleton,  from  a  position  on  the 
coach  line  over  by  third.  "It's  more  fun  than  bodging 
dullets — I  mean  dodging  bullets." 

Hodge  was  the  third  man  to  come  to  the  bat. 

Noon  believed  he  knew  Bart's  weakness,  and  he  mo- 
tioned for  a  slow  drop. 

Haggerty  faced  the  batter. 

"Nun-nun-nun-now  you're  off!"  shouted  Gamp  to  the 
runner.  "Pup-pup-pup-play  away  off.  He  can't  cuc-cuc- 
catch  you  in  a  year!  Oh,  what  a  good  time!  A-haw! 
a-haw!  a-haw!" 

Haggerty  snapped  the  ball  over  to  first,  but  Thornton 
got  back  all  right,  and  Joe  Gamp  roared  again. 

"It  is  a  farce,  isn't  it  ?"  smiled  Frank,  speaking  in  Capt. 
Hardy's  ear.  "My  team  seems  to  be  having  fun  with 
yours,  old  man." 

"Oh,  wait  some,"  advised  Hardy.  "You  will  laugh  out 
of  the  other  side  of  your  mouth  in  a  minute." 

"Just  keep  that  little  cuss  tut-tut-tut-throwing,  Tom," 
said  Gamp.  "Pup-pup-pretty  soon  he'll  get  excited  and 
tut-tut-tut-throw  it  a  mile." 

But  Haggerty  did  not  make  another  attempt  to  catch' 
the  runner.  He  suddenly  sent  in  a  straight  one  for  Bart, 
making  it  high. 


264  In  the  Game. 

Bart  struck  at  it — and  missed. 

Frank  was  surprised,  for  Hodge,  as  a  rule,  could  hit 
high  ones. 

"Oh,  he  is  easy,"  cried  Ned  Noon,  derisively.  "We'll 
have  him  going  after  sky-scrapers  in  a  minute." 

"So  that  is  the  man  you  have  been  recommending, 
Merriwell,"  said  Capt.  Hardy.  "And  he  wastes  his 
'  strength  on  a  ball  like  that.  Any  boy  would  have  known 
that  was  a  rod  too  high." 

"Wait  a  little  yet,"  advised  Frank.  "He  may  be  a  trifle 
anxious  just  now,  for  he  knows  everybody  is  watching 
him.  I'll  wager  my  life  that  he  shows  up  all  right  di- 
rectly." 

"He  hasn't  done  anything  in  the  game  yet." 

"He  hasn't  been  given  a  chance,  has  he?" 

"Well,  not  much  of  a  chance,"  Hardy  was  forced  to 
confess. 

Down  by  first  Joe  Gamp  was  stammering  and  haw-haw- 
ing, and  it  was  jjlain  that  his  talk  was  getting  Haggerty  a 
little  nervous.  The  grin  had  vanished  from  the  face  of  the 
pitcher,  and  his  jaws  were  working  convulsively  over  the 
chew  of  .gum.  He  tried  Hodge  on  a  low  drop,  but  Bart  let 
it  pass.  Then  he  sent  in  a  rise,  and  Hodge  went  for  it. 

To  the  surprise  of  both  Haggerty  and  Noon,  Hodge 
hit  the  ball.  It  was  a  frightful  crack,  and  away  flew  the 
sphere  toward  left  field. 

"Run !"  roared  the  coachers,  and  Hodge  raced  down  to 
first,  while  Thornton  went  flying  toward  second. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
MERRIWELL'S  NINE  LEADS. 

"Costigan  will  get  it !"  cried  several  voices,  as  the  stocky 
left  fielder  raced  back  after  the  ball. 

"He  can't  reach  it!"  cried  others. 

"Gamp  ought  to  be  out  there  now,"  shouted  somebody. 

The  coachers  yelled  and  motioned  for  the  runners  to 
keep  right  on,  for  it  was  plain  that  the  ball  was  going  over 
Costigan's  head. 

Thornton  dashed  over  second  and  made  for  third.  He 
was  running  fast,  but  Hodge  seemed  to  fly. 

"Watch  Hodge  cover  ground,"  called  Frank  in  Capt. 
Hardy's  ear.  "How  is  that  for  running?" 

Hardy  did  not  say  a  word,  but  he  was  astonished,  for 
he  did  not  dream  Hodge  could  run  so  fast.  Frank  Merri- 
well  was  a  swift  man  on  the  bases,  but  it  seemed  that  Bart 
Hodge  was  getting  along  quite  as  fast  as  Frank  could. 

Costigan  strained  every  nerve  to  get  under  the  ball,  and 
made  a  flying  leap  into  the  air  for  it,  but  it  was  just  beyond 
his  reach,  and  he  did  not  even  touch  it. 

"Gamp  would  have  caught  it,"  somebody  declared. 

While  the  left  fielder  was  chasing  the  ball,  which  went 
bounding  along  the  ground,  the  runners  were  making  a 
streak  round  the  diamond.  When  Thornton  passed  over 
third,  Hodge  was  halfway  between  second  and  third. 
When  Thornton  crossed  the  plate,  Hodge  was  close  at 
his  heels,  and  both  men  scored. 

"Th-th-th-thutteration !"  shouted  Joe  Gamp,  in  delight. 
"Ain't  this  a  ju-ju-jolly  time !  A-haw !  a-haw  !  a-haw !" 

Capt.  Hardy  looked  disgusted.  Was  it  possible  Frank 
Merriwell's  remarkable  "scrub"  team  was  going  to  hold 


266  Merriwell's  Nine  Leads. 

the  regular's  good  play?  It  would  be  a  standing  joke  in 
the  college. 

"Come,  Haggerty!"  he  cried,  sharply;  "you'll  have  to 
brace  up.  We're  out  here  for  practice,  and  not  to  fool 
away  our  time." 

Haggerty  flushed,  but  said  nothing.  He  had  not 
thought  of  fooling,  and  he  did  not  relish  being  called  down 
in  such  a  mannner. 

Ned  Noon  was  the  most  disgusted  man  on  the  field.  Be- 
neath his  breath  he  muttered  bitterly. 

"Such  beastly  luck!"  he  muttered.  "Think  of  Hodge 
getting  a  home  run  the  first  time  up!  It  is  frightful!  I 
must  do  something  to  attract  attention  to  me." 

He  wondered  what  he  could  do,  but  resolved  to  watch 
his  opportunity.  Unfortunately  for  Noon,  Haggerty  was 
a  trifle  rattled,  and  that  made  him  wild. 

Fales  was  the  next  batter  up.  Haggerty  was  so  wild 
that  Fales  might  have  obtained  four  balls,  but  he  struck 
at  two  poor  ones.  Then,  with  the  score  standing  two 
strikes  and  three  balls,  Fales  struck  again  at  an  inshoot 
and  missed. 

Right  there  was  where  Noon's  hard  luck  came  in,  for 
Haggerty  had  crossed  signals  with  him.  Noon  had  ex- 
pected an  outdrop,  but  it  was  a  high  inshoot.  Ned  made 
a  desperate  attempt  to  stop  it,  but  simply  got  his  hands  on 
it,  and  it  went  caroming  off  to  one  side,  while  Fales  ran 
for  first  and  made  the  bag  all  right. 

"Look  here,  Noon,"  came  sharply  from  Capt.  Hardy's 
lips,  when  Ned  had  recovered  the  ball  and  thrown  it  ia, 
"you  must  get  a  brace  on.  What  are  you  under  the  bat 
for?" 

"It  wasn't  my  fault,"  declared  Ned.  "Haggerty  crossed 
signs  with  me." 

That  made  Capt.  Hardy  angry  with  Haggerty,  and  he 
called  him  in  to  the  bench,  sending  Walbert  out. 


Merriwell's  Nine  Leads.  267 

Walbert  had  not  warmed  up,  and  what  he  had  seen 
made  him  feel  a  trifle  nervous.  This  was  not  like  a  practice 
game.  It  seemed  to  be  a  game  for  blood. 

The  spectators  realized  that  the  fate  of  more  than  one 
player  depended  on  their  work  in  that  game.  Capt.  Hardy 
was  merciless,  and  he  would  not  hesitate  to  lop  off  the 
head  of  any  man  he  considered  weak.  He  had  no  favo- 
rites, and  he  was  fearless  in  the  way  he  handled  the  team. 
His  power  was  great,  as  he  was  manager,  as  well  as  cap- 
tain. 

Rattleton  followed  Fales.  He  popped  up  an  easy  one 
to  shortstop  who  got  under  it  and  dropped  it  purposely, 
trying  to  draw  Fales  off  first  to  make  a  double.  But  Fales 
knew  that  trick,  and  he  hugged  the  bag. 

Rattleton  was  out. 

Diamond  came  next.  He  hit  a  hot  one  straight  at  Wall- 
ing, the  third  baseman,  and  it  was  gathered  in,  putting  the 
side  out. 

But  at  the  end  of  the  first  inning,  the  score  stood  2  to  O 
in  favor  of  the  "scrubs." 

"Now,  I  do  hope  they'll  get  on  to  Merriwell,"  muttered 
Sydney  Gooch,  who  was  looking  very  serious.  "This  is 
not  the  kind  of  fun  I  came  out  to  see." 

"Same  here,"  admitted  Bink  Stubbs.  "But  it  can't  con- 
tinue. Merriwell's  gang  has  had  a  streak." 

The  first  man  up  for  the  regulars  got  a  fine  safe  hit. 

Both  Gooch  and  Stubbs  brightened. 

"Ah!  what  did  I  tell  you!"  said  Harris.  "I  knew  it 
would  come.  Now,  if  the  others  will  keep  it  up." 

He  did  not  know  that  Frank  had  given  the  batter  a 
good  one,  hoping  he  would  get  a  single.  Frank  wanted 
Hodge  to  have  a  chance  to  show  his  throwing. 

Merry  was  sure  the  runner  would  be  sent  down  to  sec- 
ond for  a  steal  if  he  was  given  a  show.  He  did  not  pretend 
to  hold  the  fellow  close  to  the  bag,  believing  it  a  good  plan 


268  Merriwell's  Nine  Leads. 

to  let  him  get  a  start,  for  it  would  make  Bart's  throwing 
show  up  all  the  better  if  the  man  should  be  caught. 

Diamond  knew  what  was  coming,  for  he  understood  that 
•Merry  was  working  to  show  Bart  up,  and  he  hugged  close 
to  second. 

As  Merry  had  anticipated,  the  batter  made  a  false  swing 
when  the  ball  was  pitched,  hoping  to  bother  Bart,  while 
the  runner  scooted  for  second. 

Hodge  gathered  in  the  ball,  and  then,  without  stirring 
from  his  tracks,  sent  it  shooting  down  toward  second  like 
a  bullet. 

It  was  a  low  throw,  and  it  seemed  that  it  must  strike 
the  ground  before  it  got  to  second;  but  there  was  force 
behind  that  ball,  and  it  did  not  fall. 

"Slide!  slide!"  yelled  the  coachers. 

The  runner  slid. 

Diamond  came  in  just  right  to  take  the  ball  about  two 
feet  from  the  ground,  and  then  he  "nailed"  it  on  to  the 
back  of  the  sliding  base-runner,  catching  him  at  least  two 
feet  from  the  bag. 

"Man  is  out,"  announced  the  umpire. 

Frank  laughed,  and  the  spectators  applauded. 

"Good  boy,  Hodge !"  cried  Danny  Griswold,  to  the  sur- 
prise of  Frank.  "That  was  a  beautiful  throw." 

"Oh,  those  things  will  happen  now  and  then,"  sneered 
Ned  Noon.  "He  might  throw  wild  next  time." 

This  did  not  come  with  good  grace  from  Ned's  lips,  as 
he  and  Bart  were  rivals,  but  he  was  so  overflowing  with 
spleen  that  he  could  not  hold  it  back. 

"It  was  a  good  throw,"  nodded  Capt.  Hardy.  "I  didn't 
think  he  had  a  chance  to  catch  the  man  after  the  s-tart 
Merriwell  gave  him.  If  Hodge  can  keep  up  the  work  he 
has  been  doing " 

He  did  not  finish,  but  there  was  a  deep  significance  in 
the  hiatus. 


Merriwell's  Nine  Leads.  269 

The  next  batter  obtained  a  single,  and  again  a  man  was 
given  a  chance  to  play  off  first  by  Merriwell,  who  seemed 
remarkably  careless. 

Down  he  went  for  second  on  the  first  pitched  ball. 

"He'll  make  it?" 

"Hodge  can't  stop  him !" 

"He's  a  runner!" 

"See  him  scoot !' 

"He's  fairly  flying." 

Hodge  did  not  seem  to  get  excited  in  the  least,  but  he 
made  a  quick,  sharp  throw  for  second. 

Again  Diamond  came  in  and  took  it  on  the  run.  Again 
the  runner  slid.  Again  Jack  bored  the  ball  into  his  back. 
And  again 

"Man  is  out !"  cried  the  umpire. 

"Hodge  is  all  right!"  said  several  voices.  "He  is  3 
corker  to  throw !" 

Bart  was  arousing  admiration  by  his  cool,  steady  work. 
»Ned  Noon  saw  this,  and  ground  his  teeth  in  fury. 

It  was  Noon's  turn  to  come  to  bat.  He  advanced,  re- 
solved to  do  something  or  drop  dead  in  the  attempt. 

A  gleam  entered  Frank  Merriwell's  eyes.  He  gathered 
himself.  Two  men  had  been  allowed  to  hit;  but  if  Ned 
Noon  got  a  hit  he  would  earn  it.  Then  Merriwell  sent 
them  over  with  all  kinds  of  twists  and  curves.  Ned  was 
fooled.  He  fannned  three  times,  flung  his  bat  to  the  ground 
and  uttered  a  curse. 

The  regulars  had  failed  to  score  in  their  half  of  the  sec- 
ond inning. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

A  GOOD  FINISH. 

Walbert  did  his  prettiest.  He  struck  out  one  of  the 
"scrub,"  and  then  the  bases  were  filled.  It  looked  like 
several  more  scores  for  Merriwell's  side. 

Walbert  set  his  teeth  and  pitched.  He  realized  that  he 
was  working  for  a  place  on  the  'varsity  nine,  and  never 
had  he  done  better.  He  struck  out  another  man.  Then 
the  next  batter  sent  a  long  one  straight  out  to  the  center 
fielder,  who  gathered  it  in  and  the  inning  ended. 

The  spectators  were  greatly  interested,  for  it  was  a  hot 
game,  something  they  had  not  expected.  They  began  to 
chaff  the  regulars.  Some  of  them  said  Merriwell's  team 
was  the  right  one  to  represent  Yale  on  the  diamond  that 
season. 

Browning  had  not  been  given  much  work,  but,  to  his 
own  surprise,  he  was  wide  awake.  The  excitement  of  the 
game  had  aroused  him  from  his  lethargy. 

Up  to  the  close  of  the  fourth  inning  the  score  stood  2  to 
O  in  favor  of  the  "scrub."  Merriwell's  men  did  not  seem 
able  to  obtain  another  score,  although  they  came  near  it 
several  times. 

In  the  fourth  inning,  aided  by  a  hit,  a  fumble  and  a 
dropped  ball,  the  regulars  ran  in  one  score.  Then  Merri- 
well  put  on  steam,  and  shut  them  off. 

The  fifth  inning  proved  a  whitewash  for  both  sides,  and 
the  sixth  began  with  the  game  standing  2  to  I  in  favor  of 
Merriwell. 

The  regulars  were  first  to  bat,  and  Capt.  Hardy  had  a 
talk  to  them.  He  told  them  they  must  beat  the  "scrub." 
He  told  them  it  would  be  a  disgrace  to  be  beaten  by  the 


A  Good  Finish.  271 

"scrub."  He  told  them  they  were  playing-  for  something 
more  than  the  game,  and  they  understood  him.  Several 
of  them  were  playing  for  positions  on  the  nine. 

Merriwell  resolved  to  do  his  best  to  keep  the  regulars 
from  making  another  score.  He  was  laughing  when  he 
went  into  the  box,  but  there  was  a  serious  purpose  in  his 
heart. 

Gooch  and  Stubbs  were  two  very  disgusted  fellows. 

"This  isn't  what  we  came  out  to  see,"  muttered  the 
former. 

"Not  much !"  said  Stubbs.  "Why,  the  'varsity  nine  can't 
play  marbles !  Harvard  and  Princeton  will  walk  all  over 
'em.  I'll  bet  on  it." 

"Is  it  always  luck  ?"  asked  Gooch,  hesitatingly. 

"Of  course  it  is !"  snarled  Stubbs. 

The  last  inning  began,  and  the  two  haters  of  Merriwell 
watched  it  in  despair. 

The  first  man  up  was  out  on  an  easy  one  to  Rattleton, 
who  lined  it  across  to  Browning.  Bruce  gathered  it  in, 
smothering  it  in  his  glove  and  yawning  at  the  same  time. 

The  next  man  got  a  hit.  He  could  not  steal  second,  for 
he  did  not  dare  try,  as  Hodge  had  caught  every  man  who 
tried  it.  But  the  following  man  hit  the  ball  to  Fales,  who 
fumbled  it,  and  then  threw  wild  to  first. 

Over  second  scooted  the  runner,  and  he  reached  third 
ahead  of  the  ball. 

That  placed  a  man  on  second  and  one  on  third. 

Stubbs  and  Gooch  brightened  up. 

"Here's  where  they  win  the  game!"  cried  the  former. 

Frank  continued  to  smile.  He  did  not  seem  at  all 
anxious. 

The  next  batter  obtain«d  two  balls  and  then  had  a  strike 
called  on  him.  He  hit  the  next  one  and  once  more  it  shot 
straight  at  Fales. 


272  A  Good  Finish. 

The  man  on  third  took  a  desperate  chance  and  scooted 
for  home. 

Fales  saw  the  runner  going,  and  he  was  so  anxious  to 
stop  that  score  that  he  fumbled  again.  He  got  the  ball  at 
last  and  threw  home,  but  it  was  a  bit  too  late,  for  the  man 
had  scored. 

The  game  was  tied. 

Then  Frank  was  in  earnest,  and  the  way  he  pitched  was 
a  surprise  to  the  two  men  who  faced  him.  They  did  not 
even  foul  the  ball,  and  both  struck  out. 

The  sixth  inning  closed  with  the  score  a  tie.  Frank  was 
anxious  to  play  another  inning,  but  Capt.  Hardy  seemed 
satisfied. 

He  said  such  practice  was  too  much  like  business,  and 
the  game  was  over. 

But  the  "scrub"  was  hilarious  over  the  result.  It  was 
almost  equal  to  beating. 

Some  time  after  the  game  Frank  and  Capt.  Hardy  were 
seen  talking  together  on  the  campus. 

Ned  Noon  was  strolling  along  when  he  saw  them.  From 
the  fence  Bink  Stubbs  called  to  him : 

"What  do  you  think?" 

"I  don't  think,"  returned  Ned,  sourly.  "It's  too  muchi 
trouble." 

"See  those  chaps  over  there?"  and  Bink  jerked  his 
thumb  toward  Frank  and  Phil. 

"Yes." 

"Merriwell  is  cooking  your  goose." 

"I  suppose  so.  Well,  let  him  cook  it.  I'll  get  back  at 
him  some  time !" 

"That's  the  talk!"  said  Stubbs,  approvingly.  "I  hope 
you'll  do  it,  too !" 

Noon  sauntered  on. 

That  evening  Hodge  came  hurrying  into  Merriwell't 
room,  a  look  of  satisfaction  on  his  face. 


A  Good  Finish.  273 

"Old  man,"  he  cried,  with  unusual  enthusiasm,  "I  want 
to  thank  you !  You  have  worked  it !" 

"Worked  what?" 

"Got  me  on  for  a  trial." 

"On  the  nine?" 

"Yes,  Capt.  Hardy  told  me  just  now  that  I  am  to  have 
a  trial  in  the  game  against  Williams  next  Saturday." 

Frank  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Congratulations,  old  chum!"  he  cried,  extending  his 
hand.  "I  wanted  you  behind  the  bat,  and,  if  you  are  given 
a  fair  show,  you  will  stay  there.  We  have  worked  to- 
gether before,  and  we'll  try  it  again  for  the  sake  of  old 
Yale— dear  old  Yale!" 

Bart  clasped  the  extended  hand.  It  was  a  warm  clasp, 
the  clasp  of  true  friendship. 

On  Saturday  the  ball  game  came  off.  There  was  a  tre- 
mendous crowd  on  hand  to  witness  the  game  and  not  a 
little  betting  on  the  result. 

At  first  matters  seemed  to  go  against  Yale  and  more 
than  one  groan  of  dismay  went  up. 

Capt.  Hardy  was  very  anxious  to  win  and  made  such  a 
desperate  two-base  run  in  the  sixth  inning  that  he  dropped 
down  utterly  exhausted,  much  to  his  friends'  surprise. 

But  after  that  occurrence  the  Yale  team  braced  up. 
Frank  never  worked  better  and  Hodge  did  equally  well, 
and  at  the  conclusion  the  score  stood  4  to  5  in  favor  of 
Old  Eli. 

"We  won,  but  it  was  close,"  said  Bruce  Browning. 

And  all  realized  that  this  was  true — the  score  was  alto- 
gether too  close  for  comfort — considering  the  heavy  games 
still  to  be  played. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

MORE    BASEBALL     TALK. 

"Poor  old  Yale !"  said  Ben  Halliday,  mournfully. 

"Poor  old  Yale !"  echoed  Dismal  Jones,  with  something 
like  a  sob. 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  of  squealing  before  we  know 
whether  we  are  hurt  or  not  ?"  cried  Puss  Parker.  "Old  Eli 
has  a  way  of  coming  out  on  top  at  the  last  moment." 

"It's  a  mighty  slim  show  she  has  now,"  said  Pink  Pooler, 
and  it  almost  seemed  that  there  was  something  like  satis- 
faction in  his  voice.  "If  she  can't  do  better  than  beat  little 
Williams  by  one  score,  what  can  she  do  against  Prince- 
ton? Nat  Finch  is  one  of  the  finest  amateur  pitchers  in 
this  country,  and  he  will  make  monkeys  of  Yale's  ordinary 
batters,  while  our  best  men  will  stand  a  poor  show  against 
him." 

"How  did  Princeton  get  hold  of  such  a  fellow  ?"  asked 
Halliday. 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  am  willing  to  bet  something  that 
his  tuition  does  not  cost  him  anything." 

"If  we  could  prove  that  we  could  end  his  career  as  a 
pitcher  in  the  college  league,"  said  Halliday. 

"But  it  can't  be  proved,"  said  Pooler,  quickly,  "and  so 
Princeton  has  us  by  the  neck." 

"I  wouldn't  bet  that  way  if  I  could  get  odds,"  grunted 
Bruce  Browning,  as  he  came  loafing  up  to  the  fence  on 
the  Yale  campus,  where  the  little  knot  of  lads  were  holding 
the  earnest  discussion.  "Princeton  is  not  so  many,  and 
Finch  is  not  the  only  shirt  in  the  laundry.  He  can  be 
done  up." 


More  Baseball  Talk.  275 

"He'll  never  be  done  up  by  Yale,"  declared  Pooler,  light- 
ing a  cigarette. 

"Look  here,  man !"  cried  Ben  Halliday,  turning  sharply 
on  Pink,  "what  is  the  matter  with  you?  You  talk  as  if 
anxious  for  Princeton  to  beat  Yale." 

"That's  so,"  nodded  Jones,  giving  Pooler  a  sour  look. 

"You  ought  to  know  better  than  that,"  said  Pink,  pro- 
testingly ;  "but  I  have  got  eyes,  and  I  do  know  something 
about  baseball.  When  Yale  has  a  struggle  to  beat  little 
Williams  in  a  practice  game,  she  is  not  going  to  stand 
much  of  a  show  in  the  college  league." 

Browning  grunted. 

"Huah!  Yale  has  a  way  of  starting  out  weak  at  the 
beginning  of  the  season  and  making  a  rattling  finish.  You 
forget  that,  Pooler." 

"No,  but  that  does  not  happen  every  time." 

"Pretty  near  it." 

"There  was  a  time,  not  so  many  moons  agone,"  began 
Dismal  Jones,  in  his  queer  way,  "when  it  was  thought  that 
Yale's  one  weak  point  was  behind  the  bat." 

"That's  been  settled,"  said  Browning. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  grinned  Pooler. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Hodge?"  quickly  asked  Halli- 
day. 

"It  was  his  pretty  work  that  saved  the  game  with  Wil- 
liams," declared  Parker. 

"That's  once,"  said  Pooler,  meaningly. 

"Merriwell  says  he  can  do  it  right  along." 

"Merriwell  says  many  things." 

"And  you  can  bet  your  life  that  what  he  says  goes!" 
came  with  unusual  warmth  from  Browning.  "I've  seen 
Hodge  work  before,  and  he's  all  right." 

"They  say  he  has  a  nasty  temper,"  said  Pink.  "Some- 
times he  gets  mad  and  sulks." 

"Merriwell  can  handle  him  any  time." 


276  More  Baseball  Talk. 

"It's  always  Merriwell,  Merriwell,  Merriwell !"  sneered 
Pooler.  "He  is  a  good  man,  but  most  of  the  fellows  seem 
to  think  he's  a  phenom.  It  makes  me  tired !" 

"He  has  done  some  phenomenal  work,"  said  Parker. 
"Take  the  football  game  with " 

"Oh,  that's  ancient  history !  You  fellows  don't  seem  to 
get  over  that  football  game." 

"He  did  some  fine  twirling  last  season." 

"And  spoiled  his  arm  in  the  last  hard  game  he  pitched." 

"It  didn't  look  that  way  when  he  pitched  for  the  'scrub' 
against  the  regulars,  and  made  a  draw  game  of  it.  It 
struck  me  that  he  was  in  fine  trim." 

"He  worked  for  all  there  was  in  him  that  day,"  declared 
Pooler,  "and  I  have  it  straight  that  he  has  been  tending 
his  arm  since  then  as  if  it  were  a  sick  baby.  He  does  it 
up  in  arnica  and  witch  hazel,  and  keeps  it  bandaged  all 
the  time.  He  wasn't  in  condition  to  go  in  and  save  the 
Williams  game." 

"He  didn't  have  to,"  grunted  Browning. 

"He  was  needed  badly  enough.  It  was  Hodge's  three- 
bagger  in  the  ninth  that  brought  in  two  scores  when  two 
men  were  out,  and  saved  the  game.  I  claim  that  hit  was 
an  accident.  That  being  the  case,  it  was  an  accident  that 
beat  Williams.  If  Merriwell  could  have  gone  in  and  saved 
the  game,  why  didn't  they  put  him  in  ?" 

"I'll  tell  you  why,"  said  Parker.  "They  were  saving  him 
and  they  wanted  to  test  the  stuff  in  Haggerty  and  Wal- 
bert." 

"You  know  Haggerty  said  he  knew  the  weak  points  of 
almost  all  the  Williams  men,"  said  Halliday.  "That  was 
why  he  was  kept  in  so  long." 

"Well,  Williams  didn't  do  a  thing  to  Mr.  Haggerty !" 
grinned  Pink.  "He  was  hammered  beautifully,  and  they 
used  Walbert  fully  as  bad.  Anyone  with  sense  will  say 
those  two  men  are  no  good,  and  surely  it  isn't  sense  to 


More  Baseball  Talk.  277 

think  Merriwell  can  pitch  every  game  for  Yale  and  give 
us  a  winning  team." 

"It  doesn't  strike  me  you  know  much  about  pitchers  and 
pitching,"  yawned  Browning.  "If  you  did,  you  would  not 
be  in  such  a  hurry  to  judge  Haggerty  and  Walbert  by 
their  first  game.  The  best  pitchers  have  streaks  when  any- 
body can  hit  them,  and  those  streaks  come  when  they  are 
lease  expected.  There  is  nothing  so  unreliable  as  a  first- 
class  baseball  pitcher.  He  may  win  a  dozen  hard  games, 
and  then,  for  no  apparent  reason,  lose  one  that  everybody 
considers  dead  easy." 

Pooler  knew  this  was  true,  but  he  felt  the  sting  of  the 
big  fellow's  slowly  drawled  words,  and  he  snapped: 

"I'll  guarantee  that  I  know  as  much  about  baseball  as 
you  do.  You  did  play  on  the  'scrub'  with  Merriwell,  but 
you  didn't  have  any  work.  If  you  had — well,  you  are  not 
the  most  wide-awake  man  in  college." 

Pooler  felt  that  he  was  safe  in  making  this  talk,  for 
Browning  would  not  exert  himself  sufficiently  to  resent 
it  by  personal  violence. 

Beyond  a  grunt,  Bruce  did  not  seem  to  resent  it  at  all. 

Parker  hastened  to  say  something. 

"I  don't  think  there  is  any  reason  why  we  should  be 
frightened  because  Princeton  put  up  a  good  game  against 
the  New  Yorks  to  start  off  with,  while  we  made  a  poor 
showing  against  Williams.  That  doesn't  settle  it." 

"Last  year  New  York  beat  the  packing  out  of  us  at 
the  Polo  Grounds,"  said  Halliday,  "but  we  won  the  college 
championship  just  the  same." 

"That  only  goes  to  show  how  much  stronger  Princeton 
is  than  we  are." 

"It  goes  to  show  that  you  can't  tell  what  Yale  will  do 
by  the  way  she  starts  off." 

"I'll  tell  you  this,"  said  Bruce ;  "Hodge  works  much  bet- 
ter .with  Merriwell  in  the  box  than  with  anybody  else. 


278  More  Baseball  Talk. 

Everybody  says  he  played  great  ball  last  Saturday.  He 
will  play  much  better  next  Saturday,  for  Merriwell  will 
pitch  then." 

"The  battery  isn't  the  whole  nine,"  said  Pooler.  "Hodge 
and  Merriwell  can't  do  the  batting,  base-running  and  field- 
ing for  all  the  others." 

Joe  Gamp  came  hurrying  toward  the  little  knot.  He  was 
excited  and  breathless. 

"I  say,  bub-bub-boys,"  he  stammered,  "have  you  heard 
the  latest  nun-nun-nun-nun-nun " 

"Whistle,  Joe !"  cried  Halliday  and  Parker,  together. 

The  excited  lad  began  again : 

"I  say,  bub-bub-boys,  have  you  heard  the  latest  nun- 
nun-nun-nun — I  say,  bub-bub-boys,  have  you  heard  the 

lul-lul-lul-lul I  say,  bub-bub-bub-bub I  sus-sus- 

sus-sus-sus " 

"Whistle  quick,  Joe,"  cried  Halliday.  "You  are  going 
backward,  and  you  won't  be  able  to  start  at  all  in  a  minute. 

Joe  began  the  third  time : 

"I  sus-sus-sus-sus" — whistle — "say  boys,  have  you 
heard  the  latest  nun-nun-nun-nun" — whistle — "the  latest 
news  ?" 

"We're  not  liable  to  hear  it  if  we  wait  for  him  to  tell 
it,"  muttered  Pooler,  scornfully. 

"What  is  the  latest  news  ?"  asked  Parker. 

"Phil  Hardy,  cuc-cuc-cuc-captain  of  the  Vuv-'vuv-' var- 
sity nine " 

"What  about  him  ?"  asked  several. 

"Cuc-cuc-cuc-cuc" — whistle — "can't  pup-pup-pup-play 
any  more  this  sus-sus-sus-sus" — whistle — "this  season!" 
shouted  Gamp. 

Cries  of  astonishment  broke  from  the  boys.  Browning 
seemed  to  awaken  from  the  trance  that  was  on  him,  and  he 
grasped  Gamp  by  the  arm,  taking  hold  so  strongly  that 
Joe  cringed, 


More  Baseball  Talk.  279 

"What's  that  you  say?"  demanded  the  big  fellow, 
fiercely. 

"Phil  Hardy  can't  play  any  more  this  season?"  ques- 
tioned Parker. 

"Did  you  say  that?"  demanded  Halliday. 

Gamp  nodded. 

"Dud-dud-dud-doctor  said  so,"  he  declared. 

"Whew !"  whistled  Pooler.  "That  knocks  the  backbone 
out  of  the  'varsity  nine." 

No  one  paid  any  attention  to  him,  but  Browning 
growled  at  Gamp. 

"How  do  you  know  this  ?  Are  you  sure  it's  straight  ?" 

"Sus-sus-Sile  Blossom  told  me,  and  he  is  Hardy's  ch- 
ch-chum." 

"Then  it  is  straight,  for  Uncle  Blossom  never  jokes," 
said  Bruce,  in  deep  dismay. 

There  was  general  consternation  among  the  fellows 
gathered  there  at  the  fence. 

"Poor  old  Yale!"  exclaimed  Halliday,  for  the  second 
time. 

"Poor  old  Yale!"  again  echoed  Dismal  Jones. 

"Now,"  said  Pooler,  "it  is  a  sure  thing  that  Yale  does 
not  stand  a  show  in  baseball  this  season." 

Bruce  Browning  turned  savagely  upon  Pink — so  sav- 
agely that  Pooler  was  startled. 

"You  make  me  sick !"  growled  the  big  fellow.  "You're 
always  croaking!  You  have  been  stuck  good  and  hard 
betting  against  Yale,  and  I  hope  you'll  be  stuck  again  if 
you  bet  against  her  this  year!" 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Pooler,  sullenly.  "I  have  a 
right  to  my  convictions.  I'd  like  to  see  Yale  win  as  well 
as  anybody,  but  my  good  judgment  tells  me  she  can't 
win." 

"Your  good  judgment  is  not  worth  a  hoot !    It  has  told 


2 So  More  Baseball  Talk. 

you  she  could  not  win  before,  but  she  has  won  just  the 
same." 

"Perhaps  it's  not  so  bad,"  said  Parker.  "Why,  Hardy 
is  in  the  pink  of  condition.  Why  should  any  doctor  forbid 
his  playing?" 

"He's  been  having  queer  spells  lately  whenever  he's 
got  excited  and  worked  hard,"  said  Halliday.  "In  the 
Williams  game,  you  know,  he  fell  limp  as  a  rag  in  Jeffers' 
arms  after  making  a  hot  run  for  two  bases.  It  didn't 
seem  that  he'd  be  able  to  get  his  breath  again.  They 
fanned  him  and  turned  water  on  him  till  they  came  near 
drowning  him." 

"That  was  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  anything  out  of 
the  way  with  the  fellow." 

"What  is  the  matter  with  him,  anyway?"  asked  Pooler. 
"Why  has  the  doctor  ordered  him  not  to  play?" 

"Heart  tut-tut-trouble,"  explained  Gamp.  "He's  liable 
to  drop  dead  some  tut-tut-time  when  he  exerts  himself 
too  much." 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  in  doleful  silence.  The 
news  had  cast  a  deep  gloom  over  them. 

"Who'll  be  captain  now?"  said  Halliday.  "You  ought 
to  know,  Parker." 

"How  should  I  know  ?"  asked  Puss.  "I  don't  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  management  of  the  team.  It's  all  I 
can  do  to  play  first  base." 

"Well,  who  do  you  think  stands  the  best  chance?" 

"Frank  Merriwell." 

Pooler  started  and  scowled. 

"I  hope  they  won't  be  fools  enough  to  put  him  in !"  he 
said.  "His  head  is  swelled  enough  now.  He'll  feel  so 
big  that  he  won't  be  worth  anything  if  he  is  made  cap- 
tain." 

"Oh,  how  can  vou  say  that !"  exclaimed  Sidney  Gooch, 


More  Baseball  Talk.  281 

who  had  joined  the  crowd.  "Mr.  Merriwell  is  such  a 
splendid  fellow!" 

Sidney  was  a  hypocrite.  No  one  in  college  hated 
Frank  more  than  Gooch,  but  he  pretended  to  admire 
Merry  greatly.  In  his  sneaking  ,vay  he  lost  no  oppor- 
tunity to  injure  Frank,  but  he  never  came  out  openly  like 
an  honorable  foe. 

Of  the  two  fellows,  Pink  Pooler  was  far  the  more 
manly,  but  that  was  not  saying  much  for  him. 

Bruce  Browning  was  angry.  He  grasped  Pooler  by 
the  collar  and  shook  him  till  his  teeth  rattled  together. 

"You  envious  whelp!"  roared  the  big  fellow.  "You 
know  Frank  Merriwell  is  not  troubled  with  the  swelled 
head.  What  you  deserve  is  a  punch  in  the  jaw,  but  I'd 
be  ashamed  if  I  gave  it  to  you,  so  you  get  off  without  it." 

Then  he  gave  Pooler  a  fling  that  sent  the  fellow  stag- 
gering. 

All  were  astounded  by  this  display  of  energy  on  Brown- 
ing's part,  for  it  was  a  rare  thing  that  anything  <could 
arouse  him. 

But  Bruce  was  loyal  to  Frank  Merriwell.  He  had  been 
Frank's  foe  when  Merry  first  came  to  Yale,  but,  when  he 
was  dropped  a  class  and  found  himself  received  in  a 
manly  manner  by  Merriwell,  he  suddenly  changed  from  a 
foe  to  a  stanch  friend. 

No  one  but  Frank  seemed  able  to  handle  the  big,  lazy 
fellow,  but  Merriwell  could  do  anything  with  Bruce.  He 
even  succeeded  in  inducing  him  to  play  first  base  on  the 
"scrub"  ball  team,  and  Browning  had  not  made  a  single 
error. 

Pooler  ground  his  teeth  together  and  gave  Browning  a 
fierce  look,  but  he  let  it  go  at  that,  for  he  knew  the  big 
fellow  was  strong  as  a  giant. 

"Merriwell  will  make  a  good  captain,"  said  Ben  Halli- 
day.  "He  has  a  knack  of  getting  more  out  of  a  lot  of 


282  More  Baseball  Talk. 

fellows  than  anybody  I  know.  If  they  put  him  in  Hardy's 
place,  the  nine  will  not  suffer." 

"It  wouldn't  surprise  me  a  bit  if  you  were  right," 
purred  Sidney  Gooch. 

"I  am  not  going  to  give  up  that  Hardy  can't  play  at 
all  till  I  hear  it  from  his  lips,"  said  Parker. 

"You  may  as  well  give  it  up,"  declared  a  voice,  and 
Bart  Hodge  joined  the  group.  "It  is  straight  goods,  fel- 
lows. I've  just  had  a  talk  with  Capt.  Hardy." 

They  turned  eagerly  to  the  dark-faced,  proud-looking 
lad,  and  plied  him  with  questions.  All  he  could  tell  them 
was  substantially  the  same  as  they  had  learned  from 
Gamp.  Capt.  Hardy  had  been  examined  by  competent 
physicians,  and  he  had  been  ordered  to  drop  baseball  and 
refrain  from  all  kinds  of  violent  exertion. 

"It's  a  shame!"  groaned  Jones.  "Just  at  this  time  Yale 
can't  afford  to  lose  a  single  good  man." 

"Don't  you  worry  a  bit,"  said  Hodge.  "If  Merriwell  is 
made  captain  of  the  team,  Yale  will  not  lose  anything.  I 
know  Phil  Hardy  is  a  dandy,  but  Frank  Merriwell  is 
another." 

Somebody  laughed  scornfully  and  shortly. 

Hodge  looked  round  quickly,  his  face  flushing  crimson. 

"Laugh!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  know  what  I  am  talking 
about!  I  have  traveled  with  Frank  Merriwell,  and  he  is 
all  right." 

"From  his  head  up,"  said  a  voice. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  Pooler.  Well,  you  are  the  one  I'd 
expect  would  make  such  a  remark." 

Pooler  strode  forward,  scowling  blackly. 

"Why,  you  miserable  fool!"  he  snarled;  "do  you  dare 
talk  to  me  like  that?  I'll— I'll " 

Hodge  looked  Pink  straight  in  the  eyes. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  now  that  I  do  not  think  but 
little  of  you,  Mr.  Pooler,"  he  said.  "You  are  always 


More  Baseball  Talk.  283 

croaking.  Now  you  are  howling  about  Yale's  ball  team. 
I'm  willing  to  bet  fifty  dollars  that  Yale  beats  Princeton 
next  Saturday,  and  I'll  bet  fifty  more  she  wins  the  college 
championship." 

Pooler  was  digging  down  into  his  pockets. 

"Money  talks !"  he  cried.  "It's  a  shame  to  rob  a  fool, 
but  I  can't  stand  everything.  Here  is  my  money.  I'll 
put  it  in  the  hands  of  Gooch." 

"Put  it  in  Halliday's  hands  and  I  will  cover  it,"  said 
Hodge,  hotly. 

"All  right.   I'm  not  fussy.   Halliday  suits  me.0 

The  money  was  staked  and  covered. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

THE    DOUBLE    SHOOT. 

"You  have  speed  to  burn,  Merry,"  cried  Bart  Hodge, 
as  he  rounded  up  on  catching  a  ball  that  had  come  flying 
like  a  bullet  from  Frank's  hand.  "There  must  be  powder 
behind  those  whistlers." 

Frank  laughed.  His  hat,  coat  and  vest  were  off,  and 
he  was  perspiring  freely.  Together  with  Bart,  he  was 
putting  in  a  little  practice.  Frank  was  in  the  pink  of 
condition.  His  eyes  were  clear  and  bright,  his  complexion 
almost  girlish  in  its  pink-and-white,  while  his  legs,  arms, 
muscles,  all  were  firm  and  hard.  The  flesh  of  his  arm, 
from  which  the  sleeve  was  rolled  back,  was  white  as 
marble. 

"Some  of  the  fellows  who  have  been  croaking  about 
your  'dead  wing'  will  drop  dead  when  they  see  you  shoot 
'em  over,"  said  Hodge,  his  face  glowing  with  enthusiasm 
and  earnestness. 

"There  are  always  croakers,  Bart,"  said  Frank,  indif- 
ferently. "A  fellow  is  a  fool  if  he  permits  them  to  bother 
him." 

"They  make  me  thundering  mad." 

"Mustn't  notice  them." 

"Can't  help  it." 

"Can  if  you  try." 

"No.   I  am  not  built  like  you." 

"It  all  comes  of  practice.  If  you  keep  trying,  in  a  short 
time  you  get  so  you  do  not  notice  it  at  all.  Get  on  to  this 
twist,  old  man." 

Then  £iank  made  a  jumping  motion  with  his  body,  but 


The  Double  Shoot  285 

held  his  feet  on  the  ground,  and  sent  in  a  ball  that  made 
Bart  blink  and  gasp. 

"Talk  about  chain-lightning!"  cried  Hodge.  "Why, 
that  one  was  a  regular  dodger !  How'd  you  do  it,  Frank  ? 
or  did  my  eyes  fool  me?" 

Merriwell  laughed  heartily  over  Bart's  surprise. 

"I  call  that  my  double  shoot,"  he  explained.  "I'll  give  it 
to  you  again." 

Bart  tossed  back  the  ball,  and  Frank  carefully  wound 
his  ringers  round  it;  then  made  the  jumping  motion, 
sending  it  whizzing  through  the  air  again. 

This  time  Hodge  dodged  and  let  it  go  past. 

"Scissors!"  he  cried.  "That  fooled  me.  I  thought  it 
was  going  the  other  way.  It  took  a  queer  shoot  on  the 
last  end." 

Again  Frank  laughed. 

"That  was  the  double  curve  the  other  way,"  he  said. 

Hodge  trotted  back  to  the  netting  and  got  the  ball.  As 
he  came  down  with  it,  he  said : 

"I'd  like  to  know  when  you  got  onto  that  quirk.  I've 
heard  of  'zigzag  curve  pitching,'  but  I  never  took  any 
stock  in  it.  I  don't  see  how  it  is  possible  to  give  a  ball 
two  notions,  so  it  will  curve  in  and  then  turn  and  curve 
out  without  stopping." 

"I  discovered  the  trick  by  accident,"  confessed  Frank. 
"It's  a  hard  one,  and  no  man  can  use  it  much,  for  it  will 
knock  the  stuffing  out  of  his  wrist  if  he  does.  You  know 
a  drop-ball  pitcher  soon  uses  himself  up.  Well,  this  is 
worse  on  a  fellow  than  pitching  the  drop." 

"What  does  it  do?" 

"Makes  the  back  of  the  wrist  lame,  right  here,"  and 
Frank  touched  the  spot.  "There  is  a  snap  to  it  that  does 
the  job.  The  motion  of  the  ball  when  it  leaves  the  fingers 
gives  it  one  curve,  and  the  other  curve  is  given  to  it  by 
the  snap  of  the  wrist." 


286  The  Double  Shoot. 

"Say,  Merry." 

"Yes." 

"Don't  tell  anybody  about  this." 

"Don't  worry." 

"Because  if  you  do,  they  won't  believe  it.  There's  not 
one  old  ball  player  in  a  hundred  who  will  believe  any 
pitcher  can  make  a  ball  curve  in  and  out  without 
stopping.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  an  outdrop,  but  a 
double-shoot — Great  Scott !  it  will  be  the  sensation  of  the 
season !" 

"I  don't  propose  to  use  it  much." 

"I  should  say  not!" 

"It  will  be  a  great  thing  on  some  occasions." 

"You  bet!  Why,  it'll  paralyze  a  batter!  He'll  think 
he's  got  'em." 

Frank  pitched  two  more  of  those  queer  curves,  and 
then  stopped,  saying  he  did  not  dare  to  follow  it  up,  for 
fear  of  hurting  his  wrist. 

"Look  here,  Merry,"  cried  Bart ;  "you'll  have  to  let  me 
know  when  you  are  going  to  do  that,  or  I'll  have  a  passed 
ball  sure.  And  I  want  to  know  what  the  final  curve  will 
be,  too.  Can  you  pitch  a  rise  and  a  drop  the  same  as 
you  do  this  in  and  out?" 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"I  have  tried  all  sorts  of  ways,  but  I  can't  pitch  a  ball 
that  will  have  a  double  motion  up  and  down.  Some  fel- 
low may  strike  it  some  time,  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  it 
an  impossibility." 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  pitcher  who  could  pitch  a  double- 
shoot  before  you?" 

"Yes." 

•Who?" 

"Billy  Mains." 


The  Double  Shoot.  287 

"Who's  Billy  Mains?" 

"He's  a  tall,  angular  Yankee  from  somewhere  down  in 
Maine — Windham  is  the  town,  I  believe." 

"Where  did  you  see  him?" 

"With  the  Bostons." 

"I  don't  remember  him." 

"He  was  not  given  a  fair  trial.  He  pitched  the  last 
three  innings  of  the  opening  game  at  Boston  between 
Boston  and  Baltimore  last  season.  The  first  Baltimore 
batter  to  face  Mains  thought  he  had  the  jim-jams,  sure, 
for  Mains  started  an  outshoot,  and,  while  the  batter 
stood  with  his  stick  poised,  expecting  the  ball  would  pass 
two  feet  beyond  the  plate,  the  sphere  curved  in  round  his 
neck  and  glanced  off  the  end  of  his  bat.  The  fellow  was 
so  astonished  he  dropped  his  bat  and  fell  down  himself 
trying  to  get  out  of  the  way  after  the  ball  had  passed. 
He  may  have  thought  from  the  curves  it  had  that  it  might 
turn  round  and  come  back  his  way.  I  was  sitting  in  the 
grand-stand  directly  behind  the  catcher,  so  I  plainly  saw 
the  double  curve  of  the  ball.  A  hundred  others  saw  it, 
and  half  of  them  uttered  cries  of  astonishment.  One  old 
man  said  he  had  been  following  baseball  for  seventeen 
years,  but  never  had  he  seen  anything  like  that  before. 
Right  then  I  resolved  to  find  out  how  to  make  that  curve, 
and  I  have  been  working  at  it  ever  since.  One  day,  when  I 
wasn't  thinking  of  it,  I  happened  to  throw  an  out  with 
a  peculiar  snap  of  my  wrist.  I  saw  it  take  the  double 
curve,  and  I  was  lucky  enough  to  remember  just  how  I 
did  it.  After  that  I  kept  at  it  till  I  was  sure  of  throwing 
it  when  I  wanted  to.  but  I  tried  it  so  much  I  came  near 
knocking  my  wrist  out." 

"That's  it !"  cried  Bart.  "That's  how  the  story  started 
that  you  had  a  'dead  wing.'  The  fellows  knew  you  had 
lamed  your  arm,  but  they  did  not  see  how  you  did  it  with 
the  amount  of  throwing  you  did." 


288  The  Double  Shoot 

"The  wonder  to  me  now  is  that  I  did  not  lame  it  more. 
I  was  working  at  it  altogether  too  much." 

"This  Mains,  what  became  of  him  ?" 

"Oh,  he  has  been  in  the  New  England  League  and  the 
Eastern  League  since  his  trial  with  Boston." 

"Do  you  consider  him  a  good  man?" 

"He  has  one  bad  fault." 

"What's  that?" 

"He's  wilder  than  a  hawk  at  times,  and  he  is  liable  to 
weaken  or  go  to  pieces  when  the  batters  fall  on  him.  But 
for  that,  he  is  fast  enough  for  the  National  League.  I 
consider  him  a  better  man  than  lots  of  pitchers  in  the 
National  League,  and  he  will  get  there  some  day,  too." 

"I  should  think  his  double-shoot  would  land  him  in 
the  big  league." 

"I  don't  believe  he  can  control  it,  and,  after  he  uses 
it,  he  seems  to  get  wild  right  away.  It  knocks  him  out." 

"Isn't  it  going  to  do  that  with  you,  Merry?" 

"Can't  tell,"  confessed  Frank.  "If  it  does,  I  won't 
use  it  except  on  a  pinch  at  the  very  last  end  of  a  game 
when  everything  depends  on  striking  out  a  good  batter. 
It  will  be  valuable  if  I  don't  use  it  more  than  three  or 
four  times  for  the  season." 

Hodge  nodded. 

"It  might  save  the  championship.  Nobody  can  tell. 
What  do  you  know  about  Nat  Finch,  the  new  Princeton 
man?" 

"Nothing,  save  what  I  have  heard  in  the  way  of  gos- 
sip and  what  I  have  read  in  the  papers." 

"Everybody  seems  to  think  he's  a  terror." 

"He  must  be  a  good  man,  or  he  would  not  have  such 
a  reputation.  But  he  will  have  his  bad  days,  like  the 
rest  of  us." 

"We  can't  expect  to  win  the  pennant  on  his  bad  days/* 


The  Double  Shoot.  289 

"Not  much.  Harvard  is  not  making  such  a  blow  as 
Princeton,  but  she  will  put  a  strong  team  in  the  field." 

"What  do  you  know  about  Harvard?" 

"I  know  she  will  be  in  it  with  both  feet.  To-day  I  con- 
sider Harvard  fully  as  dangerous  as  Princeton." 

"She  is  not  generally  considered  so." 

"I  know  it,  but  Harvard  is  coming  in  these  days.  I'll 
tell  you  something.  If  Yale  does  not  win  the  pennant  this 
year,  Harvard  will." 

Hodge  was  surprised,  arid  he  showed  it ;  for,  like  others, 
he  had  regarded  Princeton  as  Yale's  most  dangerous 
rival.  Never  before  had  he  heard  Frank  so  freely  ex- 
press an  opinion  as  to  the  situation. 

Bart  knew  Frank  well  enough  to  feel  confidence  in 
his  judgment  on  baseball. 

"Where  is  Harvard's  strong  point?"  he  asked. 

"The  whole  team,"  declared  Frank.  'They  are  not 
making  a  great  howl  over  one  pitcher,  for  they  have  two 
good  men  left  over  from  last  season,  besides  any  new 
men  that  may  develop.  Reports  from  Cambridge  say 
they  are  putting  in  plenty  of  practice.  They  are  getting 
in  team  work,  and  team  work  pays.  A  nine  of  brilliant 
individual  players  will  often  be  slaughtered  by  an  inferior 
nine  simply  because  the  latter  is  well  up  in  team  work. 
Yale  should  have  more  practice  in  team  work,  I  think." 

"Perhaps  you'll  have  a  chance  to  take  charge  of  her 
practice.  You  know  Phil  Hardy  is  out  of  it,  and " 

"There's  very  little  chance  for  me,"  said  Frank,  quietly. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  the  only  way  I  would  accept  the  position  is  on 
certain  conditions,  and  the  committee  will  never  agree  to 
those  conditions." 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 
RATTLETON'S  WARNING. 

Hodge  felt  no  little  curiosity  to  know  what  those  condi- 
tions were,  but,  as  Merriwell  did  not  show  an  inclination 
to  state  them,  he  refrained  from  asking  questions. 

Bart  had  begun  to  understand  Frank  very  well,  and  he 
could  tell  when  Merry  wished  to  talk  and  when  he  chose 
to  be  silent.  With  rare  good  judgment,  Hodge  seldom 
attempted  to  induce  Frank  to  talk  when  he  showed  a 
disposition  to  be  reticent. 

Merriwell  rolled  down  his  sleeve  and  picked  up  his  coat. 
He  felt  that  he  had  practiced  quite  enough  for  the  time. 

Just  then  Harry  Rattleton  entered  the  park  and  ap- 
proached hurriedly,  his  face  betraying  no  small  amount 
of  excitement. 

"I  want  to  Merry  you,  see — I  mean  I  want  to  see  you, 
Merry,"  he  spluttered. 

"All  right,"  smiled  Frank.  "Here  I  am.  Take  a  good 
look  at  me." 

"Want  to  tell  you  something." 

"I  will  listen." 

Harry  cast  a  quick  glance  at  Bart. 

"Want  to  tell  it  to  you  privately,"  he  said. 

Bart  turned  and  strolled  away,  pulling  on  his  coat. 

"Fire  away,"  said  Frank.    "No  one  will  hear  you." 

Rattleton  seemed  troubled  about  beginning.  He  stam- 
mered some,  and  then  burst  forth : 

"Don't  you  do  it,  Merry — don't  you  do  it !  It's  a  put  up 
job !  Don't  you  do  it !" 

"If  you'll  tell  me  what  it  is,"  smiled  Frank,  "I  may  be 
able  to  tell  you  if  there  is  any  danger  that  I  will  do  it." 


Rattleton's  Warning.  291 

"They're  going  to  try  to  run  you  in." 

"How  run  me  in  ?  Arrest  me  ?" 

"No,  no!  Run  you  in  captain  of  the  nine." 

"Oh,  is  that  what  you  are  driving  at?" 

"Yes.  I  am  dead  on  to  the  grooked  came — I  mean  the 
crooked  game !" 

Harry  was  so  excited  that  he  twisted  himself  badly. 

"What  is  the  crooked  game?"  asked  Frank.  "You  are 
talking  in  enigmas." 

"It's  a  plot !" 

"What  kind  of  a  plot?" 

"A  plot  to  put  you  in  disgrace." 

"How?" 

"Everybody  most  seems  to  think  the  team  we  have  now 
stands  no  show  of  winning  the  pennant." 

"Well?" 

"That's  why  they  want  to  run  you  in  captain." 

"Think  so?" 

"Know  so.  I'm  willing  to  bet  Phil  Hardy  paid  that 
doctor  something  to  forbid  him  from  playing.  Hardy  is 
a  sharp  one.  He  saw  Yale  stood  no  show,  and  he  was 
sick.  He  wanted  to  get  out,  and  he  took  that  way  of 
crawling." 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"I  don't  want  to  think  that  of  Hardy,"  he  soberly  said. 
"I  don't  want  to  think  any  man  that  much  a  sneak.  No, 
Rattles,  you  are  dead  wrong  about  Phil." 

"I'm  red  (light — I  mean  dead  right!"  excitedly  de- 
clared Harry.  "You  have  too  much  confidence  in  human 
nature.  You  never  will  think  a  man  crooked  till  it  is 
proven  for  you,  and  then  you  don't  like  to  believe  it." 

"What's  the  use?"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "I  dislike  to 
have  my  confidence  in  human  nature  shattered — I  refuse 
to  have  it  shattered.  I  know  there  is  more  good  than  bad 
in  the  world.  The  person  who  is  forever  looking  for  the 


292  Rattleton's  Warning. 

bad  is  the  one  who  never  sees  the  good,  and  he  has  no 
one  but  himself  to  blame.  I  am  no  pessimist." 

"But  you  are  a  thundering  fool  sometimes !"  blurted 
Rattleton.  "I  don't  care  a  continental  if  you  punch  my 
head  for  saying  so,  but  you  are  a  fool  sometimes!" 

Instead  of  showing  anger  at  these  plain  words,  Frank 
beamed  in  a  sunny  manner,  his  red  lips  parting  to  show 
his  gleaming  white  teeth. 

"You  are  jolly  original  to-day,  old  man,"  he  said, 
merrily.  "You  surprise  me." 

"Oh,  say!"  snapped  Harry.  "There  isn't  anything  to 
laugh  about.  I  am  in  earnest.  Now,  look  here,  Frank,  I 
want  to  tell  you  something.  By  chance  I  heard  some  of 
your  particular  admirers  talking  about  you." 

"Who  were  they?" 

"Gordan,  Gooch,  Pooler,  Paulding  and  Marline." 

"Marline's  all  right." 

"I  should  think  so!"  burst  forth  Harry.  "He's  the 
fellow  who  was  going  to  kill  you !" 

"In  a  fair  duel." 

"Oh,  he's  a  bloodthirsty  dog!" 

"He  has  seemed  friendly  enough  since  our  encounter." 

"Hasn't  dared  be  any  other  way.  He  was  in  the  gang, 
and  he  doesn't  like  you  any  too  much.  He  thinks  you 
are  holding  your  head  too  high,  and  he'd  like  to  see  you 
taken  down  several  pegs." 

"Well,  what  were  they  saying?" 

"Saying  Hardy  got  out  because  he  saw  Yale  did  not 
have  a  show  this  season.  Saying  that  you  would  be  made 
captain,  and  that  you'd  get  all  the  blame  for  Yale's  hard 
luck.  They  laughed  over  it  like  fiends.  Oh,  they  were 
having  a  jolly  time  to  think  how  it  would  pull  you  down." 

Frank's  lips  closed  and  were  pressed  together.  A  hard, 
resolute  look  settled  on  his  face,  and  still  he  smiled.  There 
was  confidence  in  that  smile,  and  there  was  scorn  in  it. 


Rattleton's  Warning.  293 

"My  enemies  have  thought  the  same  thing  about  many 
things  I  have  taken  part  in,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"But  this  is  different,"  Rattleton  declared.  "I  tell  you 
this  is  a  plot,  and  I  believe  Phil  Hardy  is  in  it.  He  knew 
they  would  put  you  in  captain,  and  that  is  why  he  got  out. 
There's  no  more  trouble  with  his  heart  than  there  is  with 
mine." 

"He  has  the  doctor's  certified  statement." 

"That's  nothing.    Bet  he  had  to  pay  for  it." 

Still  Frank  refused  to  believe  that.  He  had  known 
Hardy  but  a  short  time,  but  he  believed  the  fellow  on  the 
level.  Phil  had  played  fast  ball  on  the  team  the  season 
before,  although  he  had  not  been  friendly  with  Merriwell, 
who  was  one  of  the  regular  pitchers.  He  had  been  chosen 
to  captain  the  nine,  as  well  as  manage  it,  and,  with  few 
exceptions,  the  choice  was  considered  a  good  one.  It  did 
not  seem  possible  now  that  because  Yale  had  not  turned 
out  as  strong  a  team  as  usual,  Hardy  had  weakened  and 
resorted  to  a  trick  to  get  out  of  his  position  of  responsi- 
bility. 

"You  must  remember,  Rattles,"  said  Frank,  "that  he 
had  a  bad  spell  in  the  game  last  Saturday." 

"Made  it." 

"Then  he  is  a  corking  actor." 

"He  didn't  fool  me." 

Still  Frank  refused  to  be  convinced. 

"There  is  little  danger  that  I'll  be  put  in  captain  of 
the  nine,"  he  said. 

"There  is  every  danger  of  it.  You  are  the  very  man 
who  will  be  offered  the  place." 

"But  the  committee  will  not  accept  my  terms." 

"Your  terms?" 

"That's  what  I  said." 

"Why,  you " 

"I  shall  have  a  proposal  to  make  to  them." 


294  Rattleton's  Warning. 

Harry  did  not  have  such  scruples  about  questioning 
•Frank  as  troubled  Hodge.  His  curiosky  was  aroused. 

"What  sort  of  a  proposal  will  you  make?"  he  asked. 

Frank  did  not  answer  the  question,  for,  at  that  mo- 
ment, another  man  entered  the  park,  saw  Merriwell,  and 
approached  him  swiftly. 

"Hardy!"  exclaimed  Frank. 

"Hardy!"  cried  Rattleton,  softly.  "He's  up  to  some- 
thing now.  Look  out  for  him,  Merry !  Don't  be  trapped," 


CHAPTER  XLJV. 

CAPT.      MERRIWELL. 

Phil  Hardy  was  an  honest-looking  fellow,  and  it  was 
not  remarkable  that  Merriwell  did  not  believe  him  the 
crafty  chap  Rattleton  represented  him  to  be. 

He  came  forward  swiftly. 

"You  are  the  very  man  I  am  looking  for,  Mr.  Merri- 
well/' he  said. 

"Well,  you  have  found  me,"  smiled  Frank. 

"I  thought  I  might  find  you  here  when  I  found  you 
were  not  in  your  room  or  on  the  campus.  You  are  wanted 
at  a  meeting  of  the  directors  of  the  ball  team." 

Rattleton  gave  Frank  a  warning  look. 

Hardy  took  hold  of  Merriwell's  arm  and  led  him  away, 
while  Hodge  and  Rattleton  followed. 

"It's  a  shame  to  drag  Merry  into  this!"  spluttered 
Harry. 

"Into  what?"  asked  Bart,  innocently. 

"Why,  don't  you  know?  They're  after  him  to  be  cap- 
tain of  the  'varsity  nine  in  Hardy's  place." 

"That's  good." 

"Good  !"  cried  Harry.  "It's  a  conspiracy — a  plot — an 
outrage !  That's  what  it  is !" 

"Oh,  come  off !  What  are  you  driving  at,  anyway  ?  Are 
you  nutty?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  Hodge.  I  tell  you  it  is  a  plot  to  hurt 
Frank !  He's  a  fool  if  he  lets  them  pull  him  into  it  after 
what  I  have  told  him !  But,  for  all  of  his  shrewdness 
about  most  things,  he  is  easy  sometimes.  He  wants  to 
think  everybody  white.  He  is  the  kind  of  fellow  who  will 
let  a  chap  walk  all  over  him  and  then  play  the  friend  to 
that  sort  of  a  cur.  That's  where  he  makes  his  mistake." 


296  Capt.  Merriwell. 

Now  Hodge  was  aroused,  for  Rattleton  had  touched 
him  on  a  tender  spot. 

"You  are  wrong !"  cried  Bart,  flushing.  "No  man  walks 
all  over  Frank  Merriwell.  You  never  knew  a  fellow  to 
get  the  best  of  Merriwell  and  hold  his  advantage.  Frank 
is  a  fighter,  and  his  worst  enemies  agree  on  that  point, 
but  he  fights  fair.  He  will  not  take  an  unfair  advantage 
of  his  meanest  and  most  sneaking  enemies,  and,  for  that 
yery  reason,  the  worst  enemies  he  has  respect  him." 

"Rot !" 

"There  is  no  rot  about  it.  I  know,  for  I  was  his  enemy 
once,  and  I  did  everything  in  my  power  to  injure  him. 
I  did  not  hesitate  to  resort  to  any  sort  of  expedient,  no 
matter  how  mean  and  sneaking.  I  did  some  very  mean 
things,  but  still  I  could  not  get  the  best  of  Frank  Merri- 
\vell.  Sometimes  I  thought  I  had  him,  but  I  always  found 
out  my  mistake.  When  I  got  him  down  I  was  unable  to 
hold  him.  It  made  me  furious,  for  I  have  a  temper  of 
my  own  and  a  little  pride.  I  was  fierce  enough  to  kill 
him." 

"Well,  what  does  that  prove?"  impatiently  asked 
Harry. 

"Wait.  I  am  not  through.  What  I  want  to  tell  you  is 
this:  The  more  I  tried  to  hurt  Merriwell  in  a  sneaking 
manner  the  lower  I  sunk  in  my  own  estimation,  for  I 
found  that  he  knew  what  I  had  done,  and  yet  he  refused 
to  get  back  at  me  in  the  same  way,  although  he  had  op- 
portunities enough.  He  would  not  lower  himself  to  fight 
me  with  the  same  kind  of  weapons  I  was  using.  At 
first  I  thought  him  afraid  of  me " 

"That's  it!  that's  it!"  cried  Rattleton.  "That's  just 
what  they  think  of  him  when  he  goes  easy  with  them." 

"But  I  learned  better  than  that  after  a  time,"  Hodge 
went  on.  "I  found  out  he  was  not  afraid  at  all.  It  was 


Capt.  Merriwell.  297 

not  cowardice,  but  it  was  courage.  He  was  willing  to  fight 
me  fairly  while  I  took  any  mean  advantage  of  him,  and 
still  he  was  not  afraid  I  would  get  the  best  of  him  in  the 
end.  He  felt  himself  my  match,  and  I  began  to  feel 
that  he  was  a  better  man  than  I  in  every  way.  That  was 
what  hurt  me  most.  I  did  not  like  to  think  that  the  fellow 
I  hated  was  more  honorable  than  I ;  I  did  not  like  to  think 
he  would  scorn  to  strike  me  a  foul  blow,  knowing  all  the 
while  that  I  had  struck  him  many  such  blows.  I  was 
forced  to  confess  to  myself  that  he  was  a  squarer  man 
than  I,  and  that  hurt  me  more  than  anything  he  could 
have  done  to  me.  It  is  the  same  with  his  enemies  now. 
They  know  he  is  white,  and  they  feel  that  they  are  sneaks. 
That  galls  them. 

"Let  Frank  Merriwell  alone,  Rattleton.  He  has  a  level 
head,  and  he  can  take  care  of  himself." 

"Oh,  you  don't  understand  the  situation  now !"  cried 
Harry,  showing  impatience.  "That  is  plain  enough. 
Frank  is  so  square  he  would  not  dream  anybody  could 
pull  him  into  the  trap  that  is  set  for  him.  Now  look  here, 
Hodge,  I  want  you  to  understand  that  I  am  just  as  much 
Merry's  friend  as  you  are,  and  I  don't  l&e  to  see  him 
trapped.  I  have  warned  him,  but  I'll  bet  he'll  let  them 
fool  him  just  the  same." 

"It's  seldom  he  is  fooled,  old  man.  It  may  seem  for 
a  time  that  he  is  fooled,  but,  in  the  end,  it  turns  out  the 
other  party  is  the  one  fooled." 

"It  can't  turn  out  that  way  this  time.  I  have  been  in 
college  longer  than  you,  Hodge,  and  I  know  something 
about  what  I  am  driving  at.  The  Varsity  nine  is  in  a 
bad  way  this  season.  It  is  weaker  than  it  has  been  be- 
fore in  six  years,  while  Princeton  and  Harvard  are 
stronger.  Yale's  stanchest  supporters  say  she  has  no  show 
of  winning  the  pennant.  Now,  right  here  is  where  the 
trick  comes  in.  Phil  Hardy  is  captain  and  manager.  He 


298  Capt.  Merriwell. 

knows  he  will  be  blamed  more  or  less  for  the  fizzle  Yale 
is  bound  to  make,  and  he  gets  out  in  a  hurry " 

"By  his  doctor's  orders." 

"Bah !  Fake !  Trickery !  Can't  fool  me  that  way !  Doc- 
tor's fush!  I  talk  what  I'm  knowing  about — I  mean  I 
know  what  I'm  talking  about.  It  was  a  trick.  Hardy 
wanted  to  get  out,  and  he  took  that  way.  Now,  Merriwell 
is  to  be  pulled  in  to  fill  the  place,  so  all  the  blame  may  be 
piled  on  his  shoulders.  I've  told  him  the  whole  business, 
and  he  will  go  in  with  his  eyes  open." 

"If  you  have  told  him,  don't  worry  about  him,"  said 
Bart,  quietly.  "He  won't  be  caught." 

"That's  what  Hardy  is  after  him  for.  I  heard  him 
say  the  directors  of  the  ball  team  wanted  to  see  him." 

"That's  all  right.  They  will  not  trap  Frank  Merriwell. 
Don't  let  that  worry  you." 

But  Bart  could  not  impart  this  feeling  of  confidence  to 
Harry.  They  got  on  to  the  same  car  with  Hardy  and 
Merriwell,  and  Rattleton  was  uneasy  and  nervous  all  the 
way  back  to  the  college. 

Harry  wanted  to  get  another  word  with  Frank  before 
the  latter  went  before  the  directors,  but  Hodge  held  him 
back. 

"I  tell  you  to  let  him  alone,"  said  Bart,  sharply.  "I 
should  resent  it  if  you  kept  after  me  in  such  a  manner." 

"You  needn't  worry!"  snapped  Harry.  "I  wouldn't 
keep  after  you  at  all.  If  I  took  the  trouble  to  warn  you 
once,  I'd  let  you  go  after  that." 

"Surely  Frank  Merriwell  is  as  shrewd  as  I  am." 

The  afternoon  exercises  were  over.  On  the  campus 
were  gathered  knots  of  students,  all  of  whom  seemed  to 
be  eagerly  discussing  something  of  general  importance. 

"They  know  what  is  up,"  said  Harry.  "They  are  talk- 
ing baseball." 

He  was  right.    Almost  the  sole  topic  of  conversation 


Capt.  Merriwell.  299 

on  the  Yale  campus  that  afternoon  was  the  baseball 
situation.  The  outlook  for  Yale  was  so  dark  that  the 
most  hopeful  felt  the  shadow  of  gloom.  Right  on  top  of 
the  loss  of  Capt.  Hardy,  Bink  Stubbs  had  been  conditioned, 
so  that  he  must  give  up  playing  or  take  the  chance  of 
being  dropped  a  class.  The  general  feeling  seemed  to  be 
that  Yale's  nine  was  all  to  pieces. 

The  appearance  of  Merriwell  in  company  with  Phil 
Hardy  caused  a  stir. 

"There  goes  the  lamb  to  the  slaughter,"  laughed  Walter 
Gordan,  who  was  in  the  midst  of  a  little  gathering  of 
Merry's  old-time  foes. 

"Wouldn't  it  be  moah  propah  to  say  the  cawfe?" 
drawled  Willis  Paulding,  with  a  weak  attempt  at  wit. 

"Oh,  he  made  himself  a  big  gun  by  his  work  on  the 
football  team  last  fall,"  said  Pooler,  with  a  grin  of  satis- 
faction; "but  he'll  lose  it  all  if  he  takes  Hardy's  place 
on  the  nine." 

"He  can't  get  Hardy's  place,"  said  Walt  Forrest. 

"Hey?"  cried  the  others.  "What  do  you  mean  by  that? 
It's  what  they  want  him  for." 

"I  guess  not,"  grinned  Forrest. 

"Really?"  questioned  Sidney  Gooch,  in  his  smooth,  in- 
sinuating way.  "Why,  that  is  what  I  heard." 

"They  may  want  him  to  be  captain  of  the  nine,"  said 
Forrest;  "but  he  can't  have  Hardy's  place.  He  will  be 
substitute  captain,  and  that  is  all.  Besides  that,  Hardy  was 
manager.  I  know  for  a  fact  that  the  directors  intend  to 
keep  Hardy  in  manager  just  the  same,  so  Merriwell  will 
be  under  him." 

"And  I  know  for  a  fact,"  said  Pooler,  "that  Phil  Hardy 
has  no  intention  of  remaining  manager.  He  knows  bet- 
ter than  that.  Don't  take  that  boy  for  a  fool." 

"You  think — just  what?" 

"He  wants  to  get  out  of  it  entirely," 


3oo  Capt.  Merriwell. 

"Because  he  thinks  Yale  has  no  show?" 

"Sure." 

"Aw!  I  think  that  is  wight,  don't  yer  'now,"  "drawled 
Paulding.  "Some  verwy  fine  fellows  in  Hawvard.  I 
weally  think  they  awe  going  to  win  this  yeah." 

No  one  paid  any  attention  to  Willis,  for  his  opinion 
was  not  regarded  as  important. 

"If  Hardy  gets  out,  Merriwell  will  be  manager,"  said 
Walter  Gordan,  who  was  green  with  envy,  although  he 
was  trying  to  hide  it. 

"Not  on  your  life!"  laughed  Forrest.  "The  directors 
will  attempt  to  manage  the  team  themselves,  and  I  pity 
the  poor  devil  of  a  captain.  He'll  get  it  in  the  neck  on 
all  sides." 

This  caused  a  general  laugh,  for  these  fellows  rejoiced 
to  think  of  the  trouble  Frank  Merriwell  would  get  into. 

"Weally,"  said  Willis,  again  attempting  to  call  some 
attention  to  himself,  "I  am  wuther  glad  Hawvard  has  a 
show  this  yeah.  I  do  not  think  it  propah  faw  Yale  to 
win  all  the  time,  deah  boys." 

"Oh,  rats!"  cried  Gordon.  "Harvard  hasn't  a  show. 
It  will  be  Princeton  this  year." 

The  others  nodded. 

"Finch  will  make  monkeys  of  our  poor  fellows,"  said 
Pooler,  with  an  attempt  at  dolefulness. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  exclaimed  Forrest. 
"You  want  to  see  Yale  defeated?" 

"Oh,  really  I  protest !"  cried  Pooler. 

"Still,  as  long  as  Merriwell  has  anything  to  do  with 
the  Yale  team,  it  will  give  you  satisfaction  to  see  Yale  de- 
feated. You  can't  deny  that,"  said  Forrest. 

"Oh,  I'd  rather  see  Yale  win,  for  all  of  Merriwell,  but 
I  do  not  have  so  much  sympathy  with  her  when  she  loses 
if  he  plays." 

"Say  I"  cried  Forrest,  "I  want  you  to  think  of  one  little 


Capt.  Merriwell.  301 

thing.  Yale  seldom  loses  at  anything  when  Frank  Merri- 
well is  in  the  game.  He  seems  to  be  Old  Eli's  mascot." 

"Of  cawse,  it's  all  beastly  luck,"  put  in  Paulding.  "He 
doesn't  really  have  any  more  to  do  with  it  than  any  other 
good  man  would." 

"You  may  think  as  you  like  about  that,"  said  Forrest, 
evasively;  "but  you  must  confess  that  he  seems  to  bring 
Yale  good  luck.  We  thought  she  was  a  dead  duck  at 
football  last  fall,  but  he  put  new  life  and  snap  into  the 
team,  and  Yale  came  out  on  top." 

"He  can't  do  that  with  the  ball  team,"  said  Gordan. 
"There's  where  he'll  meet  his  Waterloo." 

"Let's  see,  Gordan,"  said  Forrest,  "I  believe  you  and 
Merriwell  were  rivals  for  pitching  honors  the  first  year 
in  college.  He  got  on  to  the  'varsity  nine,  and  you  got 
left.  Ha,  ha !  You  haven't  admired  him  since." 

Gordan  flushed. 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  that,"  he  declared ;  "but  he  thinks  he  is 
so  much.  That's  what  makes. me  sick." 

"We  all  have  our  reasons  for  not  loving  him,"  said 
Pooler.  "It's  no  use  to  talk  about  that.  The  worst  thing 
I  wish  him  now  is  that  they  make  him  captain  of  the  ball 
team." 

Rattleton  and  Hodge  drifted  from  knot  to  knot  of  the 
students  on  the  campus,  finding  all  were  talking  baseball. 
The  events  of  the  last  few  hours  had  stirred  up  the 
"sports"  wonderfully. 

Rattleton  was  excited  and  nervous.  He  was  waiting  for 
the  reappearance  of  Frank  Merriwell. 

On  the  other  hand,  Hodge  seemed  unusually  cool  and 
unconcerned.  Bart  smiled  whenever  he  heard  fears  ex- 
pressed as  to  the  result  of  the  struggle  for  the  pennant, 
and  he  smile^more  when  some  one  declared  Yale  did  not 
have  a  show. 

It  was  generally  known  that  the  directors  meant  to 


302  Capt.  Merriwell. 

appoint  Merriwell  captain  of  the  nine,  but  there  were  not 
a  few  who  declared  Frank  was  too  wise  to  accept  the 
position  at  that  late  hour  and  under  such  unfavorable  cir- 
cumstances. 

An  hour  passed.  It  was  growing  dark  swiftly.  Lamps 
were  sending  gleams  of  light  from  the  windows  of  the 
quad.  It  was  a  mild  spring  night,  and  voices  could  be 
heard  calling  from  the  open  windows.  Over  in  South 
Middle  a  banjo  was  plunk-plunking.  There  were  bursts 
of  laughter  now  and  then.  Some  fellow  was  whistling 
"Maggie  Murphy's  Home." 

Still  the  "sports"  lingered  on  the  campus,  waiting  for 
Hardy  and  Merriwell  to  appear. 

Rattleton  was  so  nervous  he  could  not  hold  himself  still 
three  seconds  at  a  time.  Hodge  was  not  disturbed  in  the 
least. 

"Here  they  come!" 

Somebody  uttered  a  cry.  The  former  captain  of  the 
nine  was  seen  approaching,  with  Frank  Merriwell  at  his 
side.  He  was  seen  to  grasp  Frank  by  the  arm  and  draw 
him  toward  the  largest  collection  of  students  near  the 
fence.  Other  students  made  a  rush  for  that  spot. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Phil  Hardy,  speaking  clearly  and 
distinctly,  "I  wish  to  introduce  to  you  my  successor,  Mr. 
Merriwell,  who  is  now  captain  and  manager  of  the  'var- 
sity nine." 


CHAPTER  XLV. 
FRANK'S   TERMS. 

"Three  cheers  for  Capt.  Merriwell !" 

"Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!" 

"Three  more  for  Manager  Merriwell!" 

"Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!" 

The  pent-up  feelings  of  the  crowd  burst  forth  in  a  wild 
roar  of  satisfaction. 

"Now,"  rang  out  the  clear  voice  of  Charlie  Creighton, 
as  he  scrambled  up  on  the  shoulders  of  two  strong  fellows 
and  waved  his  cap  in  the  air,  "now  give  three  cheers  for 
plain  Frank  Merriwell,  the  whitest  man,  the  truest  sport, 
and  the  best  all-round  athlete  in  Yale !  Wake  'em  up !" 

They  did.  The  feeling  of  enthusiasm  that  seized  upon 
them  just  then  was  intense,  and  they  cheered  and  cheered 
again. 

The  windows  of  the  quad  filled.  The  news  spread,  and 
the  cheering  became  general. 

Harry  Rattleton  was  numb  with  dismay. 

"Manager  and  captain!"  he  gasped.   "Gracious!" 

Bart  Hodge  was  palpitating  with  satisfaction. 

"Manager  and  captain  !"  he  cried.    "Hurrah !" 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd  that  had  gathered  so 
swiftly  about  the  new  captain  was  Walter  Gordan,  eating 
his  heart  out  with  envy. 

"Oh,  it's  just  his  infernal  luck!"  Walter  whimpered. 
"Hear  the  fools  cheer  for  him !  It's  all  they  know !" 

"Let  them  cheer  now,"  Pink  Pooler  muttered  in  Gor- 
dan's  ear.  "The  cheering  will  turn  to  groans  after  a  few 
ball  games  have  been  played." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Forrest,  who  had  caught  Pink's 
words.  "He  has  been  shrewd  enough  to  get  himself  ap- 


304  Frank's  Terms. 

pointed  manager,  as  well  as  captain.  There  is  no  telling 
what  he  may  do  with  the  team." 

"It's  too  late  for  him  to  make  it  a  winner,"  said  Pooler, 
with  satisfaction.  "It  takes  time  to  build  up  a  winning 
nine." 

Frank's  friends  crowded  about  him,  shaking  his 
hand  and  congratulating  him,  with  a  few  exceptions. 
Some  of  his  friends  were  not  enthusiastic  over  his  ap- 
pointment. Harry  Rattleton  was  one  of  them.  A  few 
others  thought  the  same  as  Harry  about  it. 

But  these  were  but  few  of  the  crowd  that  swarmed 
about  Merry.  Of  course,  some  of  those  who  shook  his 
hand  and  expressed  their  delight  were  hypocritical,  but 
the  most  of  them  were  sincere. 

Frank  was  modest.    He  smiled  and  said : 

"Thank  you,  fellows.  You  are  more  than  kind.  It  does 
one  good  to  know  he  has  such  friends." 

Harry  Rattleton  groaned. 

"It  seems  to  me  Merry  is  getting  to  be  a  soft  thing!" 
he  muttered.  "They  have  made  a  mark  of  him  this  time, 
and  he  walked  into  the  trap  with  his  eyes  open." 

Harry  was  disgusted.  He  had  warned  Frank,  but 
Frank  had  not  heeded  the  warning.  From  what  he  had 
overheard,  Rattleton  was  sure  it  was  a  trap  to  injure 
Frank. 

For  a  little  while  Harry  was  so  disgusted  that  he  went 
off  by  himself  and  declared  he  was  glad  of  it,  and  that  he 
hoped  they  would  soak  it  to  Frank. 

Then  he  was  ashamed  of  himself  for  wishing  ill  luck  to 
such  a  friend,  and  he  felt  like  punching  somebody's 
head. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Andy  Emery,  on  the  way  to 
his  room,  saw  Rattleton  standing  all  alone  in  a  dejected 
attitude  beneath  one  of  the  big  elms. 

"Hey,   there,   Rattles!"   called   Emery,   coming   close 


Frank's  Terms.  305 

enough  to  recognize  Harry  in  the  twilight.  "What  are 
you  sulking  here  for?  Why  aren't  you  making  merry 
along  with  Merriwell's  other  friends?" 

Harry  looked  at  Andy  and  scowled.  The  scowl  was 
wasted  in  the  gloom,  for  Emery  did  not  see  it. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  asked  Emery,  coming 
closer.  "You  should  be  happy  to  know  Merriwell  is 
captain,  even  if  Yale  does  not  stand  a  show  of  win- 
ning." 

"Now,  you  want  to  be  careful !"  growled  Harry, 
fiercely.  "I'm  in  no  mood  for  your  jokes !  I'll  bet  you 
something  Yale  does  win!  They  can't  beat  Frank  Mer- 
riwell!" 

"Come  off !"  laughed  Emery.  "He's  made  a  chump  of 
himself  this  time,  and  everybody  knows  it." 

"That's  a  lie!"  snarled  Rattleton.  "And  I  won't 
stand  to  have  anybody  call  Frank  Merriwell  a  chump 
before  me!" 

Then  he  let  fly  his  right  hand,  struck  Emery  on  the  chin 
with  his  fist,  and  knocked  the  fellow  down. 

The  moment  Rattleton  did  this  he  was  sorry.  It  seemed 
he  did  it  without  thinking. 

Emery  was  dazed  and  astounded.  He  had  always  re- 
garded Rattleton  as  a  peaceable  sort  of  fellow,  but 
now 

"What  in  blazes  do  you  mean  ?"  he  gasped,  lifting  him- 
self upon  his  elbow. 

In  a  moment  Harry  was  kneeling  beside  the  fellow  he 
had  struck. 

"Forgive  me,  Emery,  old  man!"  he  cried,  his  voice 
quivering  with  shame  and  regret.  "I  didn't  know  I  was 
going  to  do  it — honest,  I  didn't !  I  did  it  before  I  thought ! 
I'm  half  crazy,  anyway!  You  know  I  wouldn't  do  such  a 
thing  purposely !  Let  me  help  you  up !" 

"Get  out!"  said  Emery,  sharply.     "I  can  get  up  my- 


306  Frank's  Terms. 

self.  You  are  not  to  be  trusted!  It  must  be  you  have 
been  drinking!" 

"Not  a  drop.  But  I  think  I  am  dind  of  kaffy — I  mean, 

kind  of  daffy!  If  I  hadn't  been Say,  old  man,  hit 

me !  I'll  take  it  all  right.  Soak  me  a  good  one !  Knock 
me  down!" 

Emery  was  on  his  feet,  and  Harry  was  begging  to  be 
struck  in  turn.  Andy  looked  at  him  in  amazement,  and 
then  turned  away,  gently  rubbing  the  spot  where  Rat- 
tleton's  knuckles  had  struck. 

"You  are  daffy!"  Emery  flung  over  his  shoulder.  "You 
ought  to  be  in  an  asylum." 

Harry  stood  still  and  stared  after  Emery  till  he  was 
gone.  Then  an  almost  irresistible  desire  to  shed  tears  as- 
sailed the  excited  fellow,  who  was  completely  unstrung. 

He  hurried  to  his  room  and  locked  himself  in,  feeling 
that  he  never  wanted  to  see  anybody  again. 

Deep  down  in  his  heart  Harry  Rattleton  was  one  of  the 
truest  of  Frank  Merriwell's  friends.  His  affection  for 
Frank  was  of  the  most  intense  nature,  and,  being  some- 
what excitable,  he  had  become  hysterical  over  the  misfor- 
tune he  believed  had  befallen  Merry.  He  would  have  done 
anything  to  keep  Frank  from  walking  into  the  trap.  He 
was  proud  of  Frank's  record  at  Yale,  and  he  felt  sure  this 
meant  the  ruin  of  the  proud  reputation  Merry  had  won. 

Harry  got  hungry  after  a  time.  He  began  to  realize  it, 
and  he  became  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  had  not  eaten  din- 
ner. Then  he  decided  to  go  out  to  a  restaurant  somewhere 
and  have  something  all  alone  by  himself.  He  would  be 
alone  in  his  misery. 

He  was  slinking  along  the  streets  like  a  whipped  dog 
when  somebody  blocked  his  path,  and  a  voice  cried : 

"Here  he  is,  fellows !  We  won't  have  to  go  to  his  room 
for  him.  It's  a  streak  of  luck." 

Harry's  heart  gave  a  thump  as  he  recognized  Merri- 


Frank's  Terms.  307 

well's  voice.  He  looked  up,  and  saw  three  fellows  before 
him.  They  were  Merry,  Hodge  and  Browning. 

"Come,"  said  Frank,  locking  arms  with  Harry.  "We 
had  started  out  to  have  a  little  feed  when  I  thought  of  you, 
and  we  turned  back  to  get  you,  if  you  have  not  eaten." 

At  first  Harry  thought  he  would  lie — thought  he  would 
say  he  had  just  eaten,  so  he  might  get  away.  But  when 
he  tried  to  say  so,  the  words  stuck  in  his  throat.  So 
Merry  had  thought  of  him,  and  they  were  coming  to  hunt 
him  up  and  take  him  out.  He  choked,  and  there  was  a 
blurr  before  his  eyes. 

"You  are  very  good,"  he  said,  weakly,  "but " 

"There  is  no  but  about  it,"  said  Frank,  in  his  hearty, 
whole-souled  manner.  "If  you  have  not  eaten,  you  must 
come  along  and  have  a  square  feed ;  if  you  have  eaten,  you 
must  come  along  just  the  same  and  watch  us  fill  our  sacks. 
Line  up,  fellows,  and  close  in  on  him." 

Hodge  took  Rattleton's  arm,  and  Browning  fell  in  be- 
hind, lazily  observing: 

"He's  in  for  it  now.    Escape  is  impossible." 

So  they  bore  him  away  to  a  first-class  restaurant,  where 
they  had  a  little  private  dining  room  all  to  themselves,  and 
Merriwell  ordered  an  elaborate  spread,  and  they  pitched 
into  the  food  and  ate  like  the  hearty,  hungry  fellows  they 
were. 

As  he  ate,  Harry's  heart  warmed.  Frank  was  jollier 
than  ever  before.  He  laughed  and  joked,  he  told  stories 
that  caused  the  others  to  shout  with  laughter.  He  was  the 
prince  of  good  fellows,  that  was  sure.  Still,  Harry  could 
not  help  thinking  what  a  shame  it  was  that  he  had  been 
trapped. 

Hodge  was  unusually  talkative,  although  his  talk  was  of 
a  serious  nature.  Browning  managed  to  crack  a  joke  now 
and  then,  and  he  was  able  to  eat  and  laugh  as  heartily 
as  anybody. 


308  Frank's  Terms. 

Not  a  word  did  any  of  them  say  about  Merriwell's  new 
position  of  responsibility  till  the  meal  was  over  and  their, 
appetites  satisfied. 

Then  Browning  produced  cigarettes  and  offered  them 
to  the  others,  laughing  as  he  did  so. 

No  one  accepted  a  cigarette. 

"I  don't  suppose  anybody  will  object  if  I  smoke,"  said 
Bruce,  as  he  selected  one. 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  quietly,  "I  shall  object,  old  man." 

With  no  little  surprise,  Browning  saw  Merriwell  was  in 
sober  earnest. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  exclaimed.  "Why  should  you  ob- 
ject?" 

"I  have  a  very  good  reason.  I  may  want  you  before 
the  season  is  over." 

"Want  me?"  cried  Browning.  "What  for?" 

"First  base." 

"Come  off!" 

"I  am  in  earnest." 

"Why,  I  am  too  fat,  Frank — I  am  not  in  condition. 
Such  a  thing  is  ridiculous !" 

"You  are  large,  but  you  might  be  fatter  than  you  are. 
I  know  you  can  train  down  swiftly.  A  week  of  hard  work 
will  pull  you  down  at  an  astonishing  rate." 

Bruce  groaned. 

"It  might ;  but  I  should  not  live  through  it,"  he  said,  as 
he  struck  the  match  and  prepared  to  light  the  cigarette. 

Frank  blew  out  the  match  and  took  the  cigarette  from 
Browning's  fingers. 

"I  am  talking  business  to  you  now,"  he  said,  almost 
sternly.  "You  are  going  to  work  systematically  to-mor- 
row to  work  off  your  flesh,  for  I  may  want  you  on  the  'var- 
sity nine.  When  you  are  in  condition,  you  are  a  better  man 
than  Parker  on  first,  while  Parker  is  a  better  man  than 


Frank's  Terms.  309 

Faunce  in  the  field.  One  trouble  with  the  nine  is  that  ser- 
eral  of  the  men  are  not  playing  in  their  proper  positions/' 

"But  you  are  not  going  to  have  the  nerve  to  switch 
them  around !  You  will  not  have  the  crust  to  fire  some  of 
them  and  take  on  new  men  ?" 

"Won't  I?  Wait  and  see.  You  know  I  am  manager, 
as  well  as  captain.  I  considered  everything  before  I  told 
the  directors  what  I  would  do.  They  wanted  me  to  be 
captain,  while  they  retained  the  management  of  the  nine. 
I  said  'Nit !'  I  told  them  that,  if  I  became  captain,  I  must 
be  manager  also,  and  that  I  must  have  absolute  and  thor- 
ough control  of  the  team.  I  must  have  the  authority  to 
do  just  as  I  pleased,  with  nobody  to  forbid  me." 

"Good  for  you!"  cried  Hodge,  while  Rattleton  bright- 
ened up  and  showed  great  interest. 

"It  staggered  them  at  first,"  smiled  Frank.  "They 
thought  I  had  a  crust.  They  tried  to  induce  me  to  agree 
to  their  terms,  but  I  would  not.  Then  they  had  a  fight 
among  themselves,  for  some  were  against  giving  me  so 
much  rope.  I  waited  quietly  till  the  smoke  of  battle 
cleared  away,  and  then  I  found  they  were  ready  to  accept 
my  terms.  So  I  am  manager,  as  well  as  captain,  and  I  am 
going  to  run  things  just  as  I  please.  If  I  make  a  fizzle  oi 
it,  no  one  else  will  be  to  blame." 

"That's  the  stuff!"  exclaimed  the  enthusiastic  Hodge. 

Harry  shook  his  head,  but  said  nothing. 

Frank  saw  the  movement,  and  quickly  asked : 

"What's  the  matter,  Rattles?  Come,  come!  You  are 
off  your  trolley.  Everything  is  all  right." 

"I'm  afraid  everything  is  all  wrong,"  said  Rattleton, 
gravely;  "but  I  warned  you,  and  you  went  into  it  with 
your  eyes  open." 

"Yes,  but  I  went  in  on  my  own  terms.  I'll  make  an 
overturning  in  the  nine." 


310  Frank's  Terms. 

"It's  too  late  for  that." 

"I  don't  think  so." 

"Besides,  the  material  is  not  here  to  make  a  corking 
nine.  You  can't  make  a  first-class  ball  team  out  of  second- 
class  material." 

"I  believe  the  material  is  here,"  said  Merry,  quietly; 
"but  I  do  not  think  it  is  all  on  the  nine.  I  got  Hodge  on, 
and  now  I  am  going  to  have  Browning." 

"Oh,  come,  Merry!"  gasped  Bruce.  "I'll  do  almost 
anything  for  you,  but  I  can't  torture  myself  to  work  off 
flesh  in  a  hurry.  Besides,  I  could  not  get  enough  off 

"You  can  get  off  enough  in  ten  days  so  you  will  be 
able  to  play  ball  all  right.  I  want  you  for  your  batting. 
Batters  count.  You  are  a  good  hitter,  and  the  team  is 
weak  at  the  bat.  It's  no  use,  Bruce ;  I  want  you,  and  am 
going  to  have  you.  You  must  quit  drinking  beer  and  smok- 
ing cigarettes.  You  must  go  into  training  to-morrow,  and 
you  must  work  hard  to  get  off  superfluous  flesh.  One 
week  from  Saturday  you  go  on  the  nine." 

It  was  useless  for  Browning  to  beg;  Merry  had  de- 
cided, and  the  big  fellow  could  not  get  out  of  it. 

"I  wouldn't  do  it  for  any  other  man  living,"  declared 
the  lazy  student;  "but  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  for  you.  You 
are  a  perfect  tyrant,  anyway.  What  you  say  goes." 

"And  what  he  says  is  right,"  declared  the  confident 
Hodge. 

"Then  I  will  say  right  here,"  spoke  Frank,  with  quiet 
assurance,  "that  Yale  will  have  a  nine  that  will  be  the 
surprise  of  the  season.  We  are  going  after  that  pennant, 
and  Princeton  and  Harvard  will  have  to  hustle  to  win." 

Hodge  nodded.  He  was  thinking  of  Merriwejrs  mar* 
velous  double-shoot. 


Frank's  Terms.  311 

"They  can't  touch  it,"  he  muttered. 

"Eh?"  said  Browning.    "What's  that?    Touch  what?" 

"You'll  see,"  said  Hodge,  his  eyes  gleaming.    "Frank 

says  the  Yale  team  will  be  a  surprise,  but  I  know  what 

will  be  a  still  greater  surprise." 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 
PRINCETON'S   STARTER. 

The  opening  game  of  the  college  league  was  on.  Yale 
and  Princeton  were  drawn  up  for  the  first  struggle  on  the 
grounds  of  the  latter  nine.  Yale  was  in  the  field,  with 
"Stew"  Walbert  in  the  box.  The  preliminary  practice  was 
all  over,  and  the  umpire  was  opening  a  box  to  extract  a 
brand  new  ball. 

Haggerty  and  Merriwell  were  on  the  bench  in  uniform. 
Browning  was  on  the  bench  in  citizen's  clothes.  Merri- 
well showed  no  signs  of  nervousness.  Browning  was 
placid  as  a  spring  morning.  Haggerty  fidgeted. 

Yale  was  not  well  represented  by  "rooters"  from  New 
Haven.  There  was  one  lonesome  little  knot  huddled  on  the 
bleachers,  trying  to  look  happy  and  confident,  but  making 
a  sad  failure  of  it. 

Yale  men  had  stayed  away.  They  felt  that  their  team 
had  no  show  at  all,  and  they  did  not  have  the  heart  to  go 
down  to  Princeton  and  root  against  a  sure  thing. 

But  there  was  plenty  of  blue  in  the  grand  stand.  The 
young  ladies  there  showed  that  they  admired  the  boys 
from  Connecticut,  and  they  were  not  afraid  to  show  their 
colors. 

But  the  orange  and  black  predominated  even  there.  It 
seemed  to  be  everywhere.  Princeton  had  a  strong  team, 
and  men  of  good  judgment  were  confident  she  would  start 
off  a  winner,  flukes  not  taken  into  consideration. 

Walbert  was  pale  as  he  faced  the  first  Princeton  bat- 
ter. He  had  seen  long  Joe  Varney  before,  and  he  knew 
the  "gangling"  left  fielder  of  the  "Tigers"  was  a  "lacer." 

iWalbert  took  a  little  time  to  look  over  the  ground  near 


Princeton's  Starter  313 

his  feet.  He  planted  his  toe  on  the  rubber  plate,  and  then 
wound  up  with  an  eccentric  movement  of  the  arm,  and! 
shot  in  a  "twister." 

Varney  went  after  the  very  first  one,  and  got  it ! 

Crack ! — and  away  flew  the  ball  toward  right  field,  while 
the  Princeton  lads  opened  up  at  the  crack  of  the  bat. 

"Hurrah!  hurrah!     Tiger — sis-s-s!  boom!  ah!" 

It  was  a  hit.  Everybody  saw  that  in  a  moment,  for 
Hal  Faunce  could  not  gather  it  in,  although  he  sprinted 
for  it. 

Down  to  first  raced  Varney.  He  was  an  exuberant  fel- 
low, and  he  flapped  his  long  arms,  like  the  wings  of  a 
rooster,  and  crowed  hoarsely  as  he  stood  on  the  bag. 

That  caused  another  roar  to  go  up.  Coachers  were  on 
hand,  and  they  began  rattling  off  their  talk  as  soon  as  the 
ball  was  returned  to  the  pitcher. 

Walbert  tried  to  grin  derisively,  but  there  was  a  sick 
expression  on  his  face. 

Bruce  Browning  grunted. 

"Another  one  like  that  will  break  his  heart,  Merriwell," 
he  said.  "He  may  be  a  good  man  when  things  are  going 
his  way,  but  he  can't  stand  grief." 

Frank  said  nothing.  He  sat  there  as  if  taking  very 
little  interest  in  the  game,  but  he  was  watching  Walbert 
closely. 

Beverage,  Princeton's  short,  was  the  second  batter.  He 
laughed  as  he  came  to  the  plate ;  he  laughed  in  Walbert's 
face.  The  Tigers  were  full  of  confidence.  They  had 
heard  all  about  Yale's  weak  points,  and  they  were  look- 
ing for  a  snap. 

Walbert  resolved  that  Beverage  should  not  get  a  hit  off 
the  first  ball  pitched  to  him,  so  he  sent  him  an  outcurve 
that  a  four-foot  bat  could  not  have  reached. 

The  ball  was  so  wide  that  Hodge  had  to  fling  himselt 
after  it,  and  he  lost  his  footing. 


314  Princeton's  Starter. 

A  great  cry  of  delight  and  mingled  derision  went  up. 

Varney  was  scudding  down  to  second,  and  Hodge  was 
on  his  knees.  But  Bart  had  stopped  the  ball,  and  now  he 
turned.  Without  attempting  to  get  upon  his  feet,  he  drew 
back  his  arm  and  sent  a  liner  flying  toward  second  base. 

It  was  possible  that  every  one  but  Frank  Merriwell  was 
surprised  by  this  attempt  of  the  catcher  to  throw  to  second 
while  on  his  knees.  A  shout  of  contempt  and  merriment 
went  up. 

That  shout  turned  to  one  of  astonishment,  for  they  saw 
the  ball  fly  through  the  air  like  a  bullet,  seeming  to  shoot 
on  a  dead  line  for  second.  It  did  not  seem  that  a  man 
could  make  such  a  throw  while  on  his  knees.  It  did  seem 
like  a  miracle. 

The  coachers  were  so  astounded  that  they  forgot  to 
shout  for  the  runner  to  slide,  and  Varney,  who  had  seen 
Bart  fall  when  he  went  after  the  ball,  believed  there  was 
no  need  of  taking  a  chance  of  hurting  himself  by  sliding. 

Wintz,  Yale's  second  baseman,  came  running  toward  the 
bag  to  cut  Varney  off.  He  acted  as  if  he  expected  to  take 
a  throw,  but  Varney  laughed  aloud. 

"Can't  fool  me  that  way,"  he  said.    "The  trick  is  stale." 

But,  a  moment  later  he  nearly  fainted,  for  something 
shot  before  him  and  struck  with  a  plunk  in  Wintz's  hands. 
Then  the  second  baseman  touched  the  runner,  while  Var- 
ney was  still  four  feet  from  the  bag. 

Varney  stopped  on  second  and  turned  quickly.  He  was 
in  time  to  see  Wintz  snap  the  ball  to  Walbert  and  hear  the 
umpire  cry : 

"Runner  is  out !" 

Varney  was  dazed. 

"Who  threw  that  ball?"  he  gasped. 

"The  man  behind  the  bat,  of  course,"  laughed  Wintz. 


Princeton's  Starter  315 

"I  know  Better!"  cried  Varney.  "He  couldn't  do  it! 
He  was  down !  It  passed  him.  Some  outsider  threw  it  in. 
It  is  a  blocked  ball." 

But  the  umpire  motioned  for  him  to  come  in,  and  it 
dawned  on  him  after  a  time  that  in  some  marvelous  man- 
ner the  Yale  catcher  had  thrown  the  ball  to  second. 

Hodge  was  cheered,  and  the  wearers  of  the  orange  and 
black  joined  in  the  ovation  he  received.  The  little  group 
of  Yale  men  fairly  split  their  throats  howling  their  delight. 

Pooler  was  one  of  the  party  from  Yale,  but  he  did  not 
cheer  as  fiercely  as  the  others.  He  was  disgusted,  as  well 
as  astonished. 

Walt  Forrest  shouted  in  Pink's  ear : 

"That  is  a  feather  in  Merriwell's  cap.  Hodge  has  done 
good  work  all  along,  but  that  throw  was  phenomenal.  He 
is  bound  to  become  one  of  the  greatest  college  catchers 
ever  known." 

"Rot!"  grunted  Pooler.  "He'll  make  a  fluke  sometime 
that  will  take  the  wind  out  of  his  sails.  He  can't  keep  it 
up  always." 

Pooler  had  not  been  able  to  get  many  bets,  as  he  had 
wished  to  bet  on  Princeton,  and  everybody  else  seemed  to 
want  to  bet  the  same  way.  However,  he  had  obtained  a 
few  by  giving  big  odds,  and  all  he  regretted  was  that  he 
could  not  get  more. 

When  Browning  saw  Hodge  throw  Varney  out  at  sec- 
ond he  lay  back  with  a  deep  sigh  of  satisfaction,  and  it 
must  be  confessed  that  Frank  Merriwell  breathed  easier, 
for  it  had  seemed  that  the  runner  was  sure  to  make  the  bag 
safely. 

When  the  shouting  was  over,  Walbert  again  faced  the1 
batter.  It  seemed  that  he  had  gained  fresh  confidence,  for 
he  got  two  strikes  on  Beverage  right  away.  Then  he 
tried  to  "coax"  the  batter,  and  soon  the  score  stood  three 
balls  and  two  strikes. 


316  Princeton's  Starter. 

Then  Walbert  put  one  over,  and  Beverage  sent  it  whis- 
tling through  the  Yale  short  as  if  nobody  was  there.  It 
;was  a  two-bagger,  and  the  Tigers  howled  their  delight. 

After  that,  a  hit  and  an  error  filled  the  bases.  Then 
Walbert  went  "up  in  a  balloon,"  for  he  could  not  find  the 
plate,  and  he  forced  two  runs. 

Haggerty  had  been  warmed  up  before  the  game  began, 
and  now  Frank  lost  no  more  time  in  taking  Walbert  out 
and  putting  the  little  Williams  man  in  his  place. 

"What's  that  mean,  anyway?"  growled  one  of  the  Yale 
rooters.  "Why  doesn't  Merri well  go  in  ?  Is  he  too  lazy  ?" 

"He  doesn't  dare !"  declared  Pooler.  "He  knows  Prince- 
ton is  out  for  blood,  and  he  doesn't  want  to  pitch  a  losing 
game." 

"I  don't  believe  that!"  cried  Charlie  Creighton.  "I 
don't  believe  Frank  Merriwell  is  a  coward." 

"Well,  you  won't  see  him  pitch  to-day,  if  he  can  help  it." 

Haggerty  flung  his  cap  on  the  ground  by  his  side,  held 
the  ball  up  before  him  with  both  hands,  suddenly  jerked 
it  toward  him,  humped  his  back  in  a  queer  manner,  and 
sent  it  whistling  over  the  plate. 

The  batter  fined  it  out.  The  first  ball  the  little  fellow 
pitched  had  been  met  squarely  and  sent  flying  toward  left 
field. 

The  man  on  third  held  the  bag  and  watched  Joe  Costi- 
gan  get  under  the  ball.  Costigan  did  get  under  it,  waited 
for  it  and  dropped  it! 

Then  the  man  on  third  came  scudding  home,  while  the 
others  moved  up  a  bag  each,  and  again  the  bases  were  full. 

"That  is  what  comes  of  playing  a  man  out  of  position," 
thought  Frank.  "Costigan  is  a  fine  third  baseman,  but  he 
is  no  fielder." 

But  he  did  not  say  a  word  aloud. 


Princeton's  Starter.  317 

Haggerty  did  his  level  best,  and  succeeded  in  striking 
out  the  next  man. 

The  Yale  rooters  cheered  feebly. 

The  next  batter  put  up  a  long  fly,  which  Cal  Jeffers 
captured  after  a  hard  run,  and  the  first  half  ended  with 
Princeton  "three  to  the  good." 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

FRANK     IN     THE    BOX. 

"That  is  easy,"  said  Charlie  Creighton,  hopefully.  "Our 
boys  will  tie  that  without  a  struggle." 

But  he  was  mistaken.  Nat  Finch,  the  Princeton  won- 
der, did  not  do  a  thing  but  strike  out  three  men  in  succes- 
sion, while  the  great  crowd  roared  its  delight. 

"That  settles  it!"  said  Pooler.  "Those  are  three  top- 
enders,  the  best  batters  on  the  team.  If  he  can  make  mon- 
keys of  them  like  that,  what  will  he  do  with  the  weak 
batters  ?" 

The  rooters  were  silent.  They  were  discouraged.  Not 
a  few  of  them  wished  themselves  back  to  New  Haven. 

Frank  was  the  only  one  who  seemed  calm  and  unruffled. 
Bart  Hodge  was  pale. 

"That  fellow  Finch  is  a  wizard,  Merry !"  he  huskily  ex- 
claimed. "I  don't  believe  anybody  else  can  fool  Cal  Jef- 
fers  like  that.  Why,  Jeffers  is  a  hitter !" 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Frank,  quietly.  "But  there  is  a 
question." 

"Eh?    What  sort  of  a  question?" 

"Can  Finch  hold  this  up?" 

"He  has  a  reputation." 

"I  don't  care.  I'll  go  you  something  that  he  slumps 
before  the  game  is  over.  He  is  a  strike-out  pitcher.  He 
likes  to  do  that  trick,  as  it  attracts  attention  to  him.  That 
is  what  will  count  against  him." 

"We  don't  have  one  show  in  a  thousand  unless  you  peel 
off  and  get  into  the  game." 

"That  is  foolishness." 


Frank  in  the  Box.  319 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  He  has  taken  fhe  wind  out  of  the 
fellows." 

Frank  sent  Haggerty  into  the  box  again.  The  little 
fellow  dreaded  what  was  before  him,  but  he  went  out  re- 
solved to  do  his  best. 

The  first  man  up  got  a  hit,  while  the  next  man  got  first 
on  balls.  Then  the  two  tried  a  double  steal,  but  Hodge 
shut  the  fellow  off  at  third  with  an  easy  throw,  and  Wall- 
ing came  near  making  it  a  double  by  a  snap  throw  to 
second. 

Then  another  man  got  a  hit,  which  left  a  man  on  first 
and  third,  the  one  on  second  only  getting  one  base  on  the 
hit,  as  he  stumbled  and  fell  when  he  ran. 

"A  hit  means  a  score!"  roared  a  voice  from  the  midst 
of  the  Princeton  rooters. 

"It  may  mean  two  scores,"  cried  another  voice.  "Mur- 
phy will  steal  second  on  the  first  ball  pitched." 

Hodge  called  Haggerty  up,  and  they  whispered  to- 
gether, while  the  Princeton  crowd  guyed  them. 

Haggerty  sent  in  a  high  ball  on  his  next  pitch,  and 
Murphy,  who  was  on  first,  shot  toward  second. 

Hodge  made  a  motion  to  line  the  ball  down  to  second, 
and,  as  Stubbs  was  not  playing  in  for  a  short  throw  and  a 
return  to  the  plate,  the  man  on  third  started  toward  home. 

Hodge  did  not  throw  to  second.  With  a  snap  he 
wheeled  toward  third,  and  sent  the  ball  whistling  at  Wall- 
ing, who  was  hugging  the  bag. 

The  runner  saw  the  trick,  stopped  short,  and  tried  to  get 
back  to  the  bag. 

Over  his  shoulder  sped  the  ball,  and  he  saw  he  was 
caught  between  the  bases.  He  tried  to  dodge  back  and 
forth  along  the  line,  but  Walling  ran  kim  down  and  pinned 
him. 

Two  men  were  out. 


320  Frank  in  the  Box. 

Thus  far  Yale  had  kept  Princeton  from  scoring  on  the 
second  inning,  but  it  had  not  been  by  work  in  the  box. 

Now  the  men  in  yellow  and  black  fell  on  Haggerty 
fiercely.  They  hammered  him  to  right,  to  left,  and  to  cen- 
ter. With  two  men  out,  they  ran  in  three  more  scores  in 
a  hurry. 

Before  the  third  score  was  made,  Frank  Merriwell  was 
out  of  his  sweater  and  warming  up.  When  the  third 
man  crossed  the  plate,  he  walked  into  the  diamond,  and 
Haggerty,  sick  at  heart,  came  out  of  the  box. 

Frank  was  greeted  with  a  cheer.  The  Yale  men  cheered 
him,  and  Princeton  men  clapped  their  hands,  for  he  was 
well  known  and  admired  for  his  prowess. 

His  face  was  quite  calm  as  he  went  into  the  box. 

Pink  Pooler  sneered : 

"Here  is  where  Mr.  Merriwell  takes  his  medicine.  Oh, 
Princeton  has  won  the  game  now!  Yale  can't  get  six 
scores  off  a  fellow  like  Finch." 

Nobody  said  a  word.  All  seemed  to  feel  that  Pooler 
was  right. 

Merry  remembered  how  Billy  Mains  had  paralyzed  the 
Baltimore  batter  by  sending  in  a  double-shoot  for  the  first 
ball,  and  he  resolved  to  try  it  on  the  Princeton  man.  Bart 
signaled  for  a  drop,  but  Frank  gave  him  a  signal  that 
told  his  decision  to  use  the  double-shoot  at  the  very  start. 

Having  taken  plenty  of  time,  Merriwell  sent  in  a 
"smoker."  The  ball  made  a  sharp  outcurve,  and  then 
curved  inward  so  quickly  that  it  passed  fairly  over  the 
outside  corner  of  the  plate,  although  it  had  looked  like  a 
wild  one. 

"One  strike!"  cried  the  umpire. 

The  batter  dropped  his  stick  and  stared  at  Merriwell, 
while  cries  of  astonishment  came  from  the  grand  stand. 

The  face  of  Bart  Hodge  was  calm  a'nd  cold  as  ice.  while 


Frank  in  the  Box.  321 

liis  nerves  were  steady  as  a  clock,  although  they  Haft  Seefl 
badlv  shaken  till  Frank  entered  the  box. 

"Have  I  got  'em?"  muttered  the  batter,  as  he  rubbed 
his  eyes  and  picked  up  his  bat. 

"What's  the  matter?"  sharply  asked  the  captain  of  the 
team.  "Why  did  you  drop  it  ?" 

"You  should  have  seen  that  ball !"  returned  the  man  at 
the  plate=  "It  had  more  curves  than  a  corkscrew !  I'll  bet 
he  can't  do  it  again." 

Not  a  word  did  Frank  say,  but  again  he  assumed  a  po 
ti'.ion  that  told  Hodge  he  would  pitch  a  double-shoot. 

This  time  he  started  it  with  an  in,  and  it  changed  to  an 
out,  just  as  the  batter  leaped  back  to  get  out  of  the  way. 

Over  the  outside  corner  of  the  plate  passed  the  ball. 

''Two  strikes!"  cried  the  umpire. 

The  batter  was  dazed. 

"I'd  give  a  hundred  dollars  to  know  what  kind  of  twists 
he  is  getting  onto  that  thing !"  he  muttered.  "Never  saw 
anything  like  that  before." 

After  that  he  felt  that  he  could  not  tell  where  the  ball 
was  coming.  The  next  one  started  with  an  outcurve,  but 
the  batter  feared  it  might  twist  in  somehow,  for  all  that 
such  a  thing  seemed  utterly  impossible,  so  he  fanned  the 
empty  air  trying  to  hit  it,  and  was  out. 

Frank  had  pitched  three  balls  and  struck  the  man  out. 

"Now,  fellows,"  said  Frank,  as  his  men  gathered  around 
him  near  the  bench,  "if  you  will  keep  cool  and  think  you 
can  hit  Finch,  you  will  hit  him  all  right  before  you  quit.  I 
am  going  to  try  to  hold  them  down  hard.  If  we  can  make 
some  scores  in  any  possible  way,  we  stand  a  fair  shot  at 
this  game  yet." 

"That's  rot!"  said  Hal  Faunce.     "We  do  not  stand  & 
ghost  of  a  show.    I  can't  hit  Finch,  and  I  don't 
fthe  rest  of  vou  can." 


322  Frank  in  the  Box. 

Without  showing  the  least  excitement,  but  speaking 
very  coldly,  Merry  said : 

"Faunce,  go  into  the  dressing-  room  and  get  out  of  that 
suit.  Browning  will  put  it  on  if  he  can  get  into  it." 

"What  ?"  cried  Faunce,  harshly.    "What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"I  do  not  propose  to  put  a  man  up  against  Finch  who 
feels  sure  he  can't  hit  the  fellow.  It's  a  waste  of  time." 

"You  are  going  to  lay  me  off?"  growled  Faunce. 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  and  turned  away. 

Cursing  under  his  breath,  Faunce  started  toward  the 
dressing  room.  Frank  motioned  for  Browning  to  follow, 
and  Bruce  obeyed. 

It  happened  that  Faunce  was  a  big  fellow,  and  the  suits 
were  loose,  so  that  there  was  a  chance  for  Browning  to 
get  into  the  one  worn  by  the  angry  right  fielder. 

The  game  went  on. 

Bink  Stubbs  came  to  the  bat  and  fanned  out  easily. 
Then  Walling  came  up  and  popped  an  easy  fly  into  the 
air,  so  Finch  gathered  it  in  and  got  an  out  to  his  credit. 

Wintz  was  the  next  batter.  He  did  not  try  to  slaughter 
the  ball,  but  he  got  up  against  it  fairly,  and  sent  it  out  to- 
ward short.  Beverage  should  have  picked  it  up,  but  he 
made  a  fumble,  and  Wintz  succeeded  in  reaching  first 
ahead  of  the  ball. 

"Here  is  where  we  start,"  said  Frank. 

But  Parker,  the  next  man,  batted  a  liner  straight  at 
Murphy,  who  took  it  easily. 

Still  not  a  hit  had  been  obtained  off  Finch. 

Frank  went  into  the  box,  prepared  to  make  a  fight  to 
keep  Princeton  from  rolling  up  a  score.  He  could  not  use 
his  great  double-shoot  often,  but  he  resolved  to  use  it  at 
critical  times.  He  could  control  it  in  a  marvelous  manner, 
so  it  was  not  dangerous  to  use. 

The  first  man  up  managed  to  find  the  ball.  It  was  not 
a  hit,  but  he  got  first  on  an  error  by  Wintz. 


Frank  in  the  Box.  323 

Then  Merry  toyed  with  the  next  batter,  while  the  anx- 
ious runner  was  held  close  to  first,  without  daring  to  try 
a  steal.  At  last  the  batter  tried  to  bunt,  but  Frank  appre- 
hended the  trick,  and  ran  in  the  moment  he  pitched  the 
ball. 

Down  toward  third  rolled  the  ball.  Merry  got  it 
ahead  of  Walling,  scooping  it  up  with  one  hand,  and 
turned,  throwing  it  with  the  same  motion  that  picked  it 
from  the  ground. 

Down  to  second  sped  the  ball.  It  got  there  ahead  of 
the  runner,  and  Wintz  snapped  it  to  first  quick  as  a  flash. 

It  was  a  double  play ;  both  men  were  out. 

Then  the  Yale  rooters  took  heart  and  cheered.  Once 
more  not  a  few  of  the  Princeton  men  were  generous 
enough  to  give  a  hand. 

Frank  was  not  trying  to  make  a  brilliant  record  on 
strike-outs,  but  he  was  holding  his  opponents  down  on  hits. 

The  next  man  up  struck  out,  however,  and  then  Yale 
once  again  came  to  the  bat. 

For  the  next  three  innings  the  score  remained  just  the 
same ;  Princeton  had  made  six,  while  Yale  had  not  been 
able  to  score,  although  Merriwell,  Hodge,  Browning,  Jef- 
fers  and  Wintz  obtained  good  hits.  Finch,  however,  was 
keeping  the  hits  scattered,  and  the  cloud  of  gloom  had  set- 
tled thickly  over  the  few  Yale  rooters  huddled  on  the 
bleachers. 

Merriwell  was  toying  with  Princeton's  best  batters. 
Whenever  it  looked  as  if  a  good  man  had  Merriwell  in  a 
hole,  he  would  "put  on  steam,"  send  in  one  or  two  more 
of  those  baffling  double-shoots,  and  strike  the  man  out. 

The  rooters  growled.  Why  hadn't  Frank  gone  in  at 
the  start?  Then  it  might  have  been  different.  Now  the 
game  was  lost  beyond  recovery. 

"That  shows  what  a  fine  manager  he  is,"  sneered 
Pooler. 


324  Frank  in  the  Box. 

In  the  sixth  inning  Yale  seemed  in  just  as  bad  luck  as 
ever.  The  first  two  men  up  went  out,  and  then  Hodge 
came  to  the  bat.  There  was  fire  in  Bart's  eye.  He  waited 
for  a  good  one,  and  then  smashed  it  out  for  one  of  th? 
longest  drives  of  the  day,  landing  on  third  before  the  out- 
fielders could  get  the  sphere  back  into  the  diamond. 

Merriwell  was  the  next  batter.  He  was  very  particular 
in  the  selection  of  a  wagon-tongue  bat,  and,  when  he  came 
up,  he  resolved  to  bring  Bart  in  if  possible. 

Finch  was  shooting  them  over  like  bullets.  He  tried  to 
strike  Frank  out,  and  that  was  where  he  made  his  mis- 
take. Merry  picked  out  a  good  one,  found  it,  met  it,  and 
sent  it  humming. 

In  came  Hodge,  while  Frank  made  two  bags  with  ease. 

The  Yale  rooters  brightened  up. 

"What's  this?  What's  this?"  cried  Charlie  Creighton. 
"They  have  dropped  on  Finch  at  last !  Now  they  will  hit 
anything  he  sends  over  the  plate." 

The  Yale  yell  was  heard,  and  the  little  bunch  of  rooters 
did  their  best  to  encourage  the  players. 

Finch  was  astonished  by  Merriwell's  success.  Suddenly 
he  lost  some  of  the  supreme  confidence  that  had  buoyed 
him  up  all  the  while.  Yale  had  scored  at  a  time  when  a 
whitewash  seemed  sure.  What  was  going  to  happen  next  ? 

Cal  Jeffers  came  to  the  plate.  He  had  been  placed  at 
the  head  of  Yale's  batting  list  because  of  his  qualities  as  a 
hard,  sure  hitter. 

Hodge  and  Merriwell  had  secured  hits,  and  Jeffers 
looked  as  if  he  meant  to  do  the  same. 

Finch  fiddled  with  the  ball,  while  two  Yale  coachers 
shouted  from  opposite  sides  of  the  diamond.  He  pitched 
twice  and  had  two  called  balls  on  him.  Jeffers  stood 
calmly  waiting  for  a  good  one. 

Finch  decided  to  put  on  his  greatest  speed  and  cut  the 


Frank  in  the  Box.  325 

outside  corner  of  the  plate.  He  did,  and  Cal  Jeffers 
swung  his  bat. 

It  did  not  seem  that  Jeffers  put  any  force  into  that  hit, 
but  the  ball  went  skimming  down  between  short  and  sec- 
ond so  fast  that  no  one  could  touch  it,  and  it  placed  Jeffers 
on  second,  while  Merriwell  scored  with  ease. 

Two  for  Yale ! 

The  rooters  broke  loose  in  earnest.  This  was  better 
than  they  had  expected. 

And  big  Bruce  Browning  was  at  the  bat ! 

Now  Bruce  seemed  very  much  awake.  He  had  barely 
been  able  to  pull  on  Faunce's  suit,  and  it  looked  as  if  he 
might  split  open  the  shirt  or  the  trousers  at  any  moment. 

Finch  was  nervous ;  he  showed  it.  His  confidence  had 
dropped  in  an  astonishing  manner. 

"It's  too  bad,"  said  Pink  Pooler,  who  showed  some 
symptoms  of  uneasiness.  "Why  didn't  the  fellows  do  this 
before  ?  Now  it  is  too  late." 

"It's  never  too  late  to  mend,"  said  Dismal  Jones,  sol- 
emnly. "There  is  a  chance  for  you." 

Finch  resolved  to  worry  Browning,  but  he  made  a  mis- 
take with  the  first  ball  he  pitched.  Without  intending  to 
do  so,  he  sent  that  ball  over  close  to  the  ground. 

Browning  hit  it,  and  rapped  out  a  daisy-cutter  that  en- 
abled him  to  get  first,  while  Jeffers,  by  the  most  brilliant 
running,  crossed  third  and  came  home  on  a  slide,  getting 
in  the  score. 

"There's  half  of  it !"  screamed  Jack  Diamond,  from  the 
bleachers. 

His  voice  was  drowned  by  the  Yale  cheers. 

Right  there  Finch  went  entirely  to  pieces.  He  became 
so  wild  that  the  next  two  men  got  a  base  on  balls,  and  the 
bags  were  all  taken.  Then  Walling  rapped  one  to  Prince- 
ton's third  baseman.  It  should  have  been  an  easy  out,  but 
the  man  was  so  anxious  to  pick  it  up  cleanly  that  he  jug- 


326  Frank  in  the  Box. 

gled  it,  tossed  it  into  the  air,  caught  it,  threw  it  to  first, 
and  put  it  away  over  the  head  of  the  baseman. 

Browning  had  scored,  Costigan  followed  him,  and  Bink 
Stubbs  made  a  slide  for  third. 

The  right  fielder  was  the  man  who  got  the  ball.  He 
shot  it  to  first,  and  first  sent  it  across  to  third.  It  was  an- 
other wild  throw.  The  whole  Princeton  nine  seemed  "up 
in  the  air." 

Stubbs  scrambled  up,  hearing  the  coacher  yelling  for 
him  to  make  for  home.  He  did  so.  His  short  legs  fairly 
twinkled  as  he  tore  down  the  line,  and  he  crossed  the  plate 
ahead  of  the  ball. 

Then  the  Yale  rooters  yelled,  and  shrieked,  and  cheered 
till  it  seemed  they  were  crazy,  for  the  score  was  tied! 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

VICTORY ! 

Another  pitcher  was  set  to  warming  up  right  away,  al- 
though it  was  as  much  the  fault  of  the  infield  players  as 
of  Finch  that  Yale  had  tied  the  score.  Finch  saw  the  man 
getting  ready  to  go  in,  and  that  helped  take  the  sand  out 
of  the  fellow.  He  gave  the  next  batter  a  base  on  balls,  and 
then  Parker  got  a  hit  that  brought  Walling  home  and 
gave  Yale  the  lead. 

It  was  a  happy  crowd  of  rooters  who  wore  the  blue  just 
then.  A  few  minutes  before  it  had  seemed  that  Yale  did 
not  have  a  show  in  the  game.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
inning  Yale  had  not  scored,  and  Princeton  apparently  had 
a  snap.  Now  Yale  was  one  score  in  the  lead. 

The  students  from  New  Haven  acted  like  maniacs. 
They  howled  like  so  many  savages,  they  sung,  they 
thumped  each  other,  they  laughed  and  shrieked. 

There  was  one  who  did  not  shout.  It  was  Pooler.  He 
looked  very  ill. 

"Too  bad !"  he  grated.  "Is  it  possible  Merriwell  and 
Hodge  are  going  to  be  the  cause  of  beating  me  again !  Oh, 
Merriwell  is  poison  to  me !  His  man,  Hodge,  started  the 
ball  rolling,  and  he  followed  it  up.  Then  those  Princeton 
puppies  acted  like  a  lot  of  children  !  It's  awful  !* 

He  wiped  the  cold  sweat  from  his  face. 

"Here's  to  good  old  Yale,  drink  it  down!"  sang  the 
rooters. 

Finch  dallied  for  time.  He  wanted  to  get  out  of  the 
box,  for  something  told  him  Yale  would  keep  risrht  ^n  pil- 
ing up  scores  while  he  remained  in. 


328  Victory ! 

The  Princeton  captain  sent  out  a  new  pitcher,  and  Finch 
dropped  the  ball  willingly. 

The  new  man  pitched  a  very  slow  ball.  It  was  a  great 
change  from  the  speed  of  Finch,  and  the  batter  popped  up 
an  easy  fly  to  the  infield,  which  retired  Yale  at  last. 

But  the  rooters  were  jubilant,  and  the  players  were 
hopeful. 

"Now,  fellows,"  said  Frank,  as  the  men  went  out  into 
the  field,  "we  must  be  steady  and  hold  them  down.  If  we 
can  do  it,  this  game  belongs  to  us." 

But  it  did  not  take  him  long  to  discover  that  the  men 
were  too  anxious.  Walling  let  an  easy  hit  go  through  him, 
and  the  batter  reached  first.  Stubbs  dropped  a  hot 
bounder,  and  two  men  were  on  bases.  Wintz  made  a  wild 
throw  to  third,  and  the  bases  were  filled  without  Princeton 
having  made  a  hit. 

The  Princeton  rooters  were  warming  up. 

They  were  doing  their  best  to  rattle  Merriwell. 

Frank  did  not  believe  in  working  for  strike-outs,  but  he 
began  to  realize  that  the  time  had  come  when  strike-outs 
counted.  He  trimmed  the  next  batter's  whiskers  with  an 
in,  he  pulled  him  with  an  out,  and  he  paralyzed  him  with 
a  double-shoot. 

"Three  strikes — batter  out,"  decided  the  umpire. 

"Got  to  do  it  twice  more,"  thought  Merry,  while  Hodge 
nodded  at  him  encouragingly. 

He  did.  With  astonishing  ease,  apparently,  he  made  the 
next  two  men  fan,  and  Princeton  had  not  scored. 

Yale  held  the  lead. 

As  Frank  came  in  to  the  bench,  Hodge  met  him  and 
said: 

"It  was  beautiful  work,  Merry !  It  was  grand !  Keep  it 
up.  You  must  win  this  game  in  the  box.  The  team  can't 
be  trusted." 

"I  will  do  my  best,"  said  Frank,  quietly. 


Victory !  329 

He  did.  Although  Yale  was  unable  to  make  another 
score,  Frank  held  Princeton  down  so  she  could  not  recover 
her  lead,  although  she  filled  the  bases  in  the  ninth,  and 
made  a  desperate  bid  for  a  score.  For  the  last  time  in  the 
game,  Merry  used  the  double-shoot,  and  the  last  Princeton 
man  fanned  gracefully. 

It  was  all  over  but  the  shouting.  Yale  had  won,  and  the 
little  crowd  of  loyal  rooters  were  weak  from  their  vocal 
efforts,  but  happy — so  happy! 

Without  doubt,  the  most  wretched  man  in  New  Jersey 
that  day  was  Pink  Pooler.  He  hated  Frank  Merriwell,  he 
hated  himself,  he  hated  everybody  and  everything.  The 
victorious  shouts  of  the  Yale  men  made  him  sick  at  heart, 
and  he  slunk  away  by  himself. 

The  news  was  sent  to  New  Haven  by  wire.  The  score 
had  been  sent  out  by  innings,  and  at  the  end  of  the  fifth 
inning,  with  the  score  six  to  nothing  in  Princeton's  favor, 
a  deep  cloud  of  gloom  hung  over  the  Yale  campus.  The 
only  hope  of  the  most  hopeful  was  that  Yale  would  man- 
age to  get  in  one  run  and  save  a  shutout. 

When  the  result  of  the  next  inning  came  in  everyone 
seemed  paralyzed  with  astonishment.  They  could  not  be- 
lieve the  defenders  of  the  blue  had  made  seven  runs  in  a 
single  inning.  It  seemed  utterly  ridiculous.  They  thought 
it  was  a  hoax.  Some  bets  were  made  that  it  was  not  right. 

And,  when  the  game  continued  and  ended,  and  they 
knew  for  a  certainty  that  Yale  had  won,  there  was  a  wild 
scene  on  the  Yale  campus.  To  snatch  victory  from  defeat 
in  such  a  manner  was  enough  to  set  the  Yale  men  wild. 

"Where  is  Finch  ?"  was  the  cry.  "Oh,  he  had  his  trou- 
bles in  the  sixth  !  Our  boys  didn't  do  a  thing  to  him !" 

It  was  a  remarkable  game;  the  score  board  told  that. 
A  hundred  fellows  said  they  would  have  given  anything 
had  they  seen  it.  They  were  regretful  when  they  thought 


3}o  Victory ! 

How  they  had  regained  away  because  they  thought  Yale 
did  not  have  a  chance  to  win. 

Everybody  talked  baseball,  and  Frank  Merriwell's  name 
was  on  everybody's  tongue.  It  was  generally  believed  that 
he  was  responsible  for  the  marvelous  manner  in  which 
Yale  had  won. 

"You  may  bet  your  life  he  did  most  of  the  pitching," 
chuckled  Paul  Pierson.  "Princeton  did  not  score  after 
the  second  inning.  I'll  bet  something  Merriwell  pitched 
the  last  seven  innings  of  that  game." 

It  was  a  happy  crowd  of  players  and  rooters  who  took 
the  train  for  New  York  that  night.  Some  Princeton  men 
came  down  and  saw  them  off. 

"It's  all  right,  fellows,"  called  the  Tigers.  "You  won 
by  a  fluke.  Next  time  Finch  will  paralyze  you.  He  is  a 
dandy !" 

"What's  the  matter  with  Merriwell?"  cried  Charlie 
Creighton.  "You  did  not  make  a  score  off  him.  How  do 
you  like  that  delirium  tremens  curve  of  his  ?" 

"It's  a  bird!"  was  the  answer;  "but  we'll  eat  it  next 
time." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !  Finch  is  a  dandy,  but  what's  the 
matter  with  Merriwell?" 

"He's  all  right!"  shouted  the  jolly  lads  on  the  railway 
station. 

"You  bet  he  is !"  flung  back  the  Yale  men  on  the  train. 
"Three  cheers  for  Merriwell !" 

"Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!" 

Then  the  train  drew  out  of  the  station. 

It  was  one  of  those  glorious  hours  that  comes  to  every 
college  lad  who  admires  the  manly  game  of  baseball.  And 
it  seems  remarkable  that  any  live  American  boy  with  warm 
blood  in  his  body  can  fail  to  love  the  game  with  all  his 
soul. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

FIGHTING    A     GANG. 

"Merriwell  won  the  game." 

That  was  the  report  brought  back  to  New  Haven  by  the 
victors,  and  Frank  was  more  of  a  hero  than  ever. 

There  was  one  man  who  came  back  with  a  heart  over- 
flowing with  bitterness.  Pink  Pooler  had  made  bets  right 
and  left  that  Yale  would  not  win  the  pennant  that  season. 
He  had  offered  all  sorts  of  odds,  and  he  felt  that  he  would 
be  in  a  bad  hole  if  Yale  did  win. 

Yale  played  Harvard  on  Yale  field  to  follow  the  Prince- 
ton game.  Now  that  the  blue  had  won  over  the  orange 
and  black  there  were  enough  fellows  with  money  to  bet 
that  Yale  would  down  Harvard. 

Pooler  had  received  a  "straight  tip"  that  Harvard  was 
coming  with  a  powerful  team,  and  he  raked  every  dollar 
he  could  raise  to  back  her  as  a  winner. 

Pooler  firmly  believed  Yale  had  won  the  Princeton  game 
by  a  fluke.  Harvard  must  come  out  ahead  in  the  game 
on  the  following  Saturday.  If  not  by  fair  means — well, 
there  would  be  a  way  to  fix  it ! 

Much  talk  was  made  about  Merriwell's  double-shoot. 
Hodge  was  enthusiastic  over  it.  He  declared  Merry 
would  paralyze  the  Harvard  men  with  that  curve. 

Frank  retired  Hal  Faunce  from  the  team.  He  put  Puss 
Parker  in  right,  and  placed  Bruce  Browning  on  first. 
Then  he  pulled  in  Joe  Costigan  from  left  field  and  restored 
him  to  third  base,  the  position  he  had  played  the  previous 
season. 

"Who  will  he  play  in  left?" 

That  was  an  open  question.     He  practiced  with  both 


332  Fighting  a  Gang. 

Gamp  and  Walling  in  that  position.  Walling  showed  up 
poorly,  while  Gamp,  tall,  "gangling"  and  awkward,  made 
some  remarkable  catches.  Walling  was  placed  on  the 
bench,  and  Gamp  was  installed  in  left. 

Old  players  looked  on  aghast.  Surely  Merriwell  was 
crazy.  Gamp  was  not  a  practical  man.  Browning  might 
go  to  sleep  on  first.  What  sort  of  a  team  was  Frank  get- 
ting together? 

Merry  did  not  pay  any  heed  to  what  was  being  said.  He 
took  his  team  out  for  practice  every  day.  He  worked 
them  hard.  He  drilled  them  on  team  work.  He  had  them 
so -everyone  understood  the  code  of  signals  which  he  in- 
troduced. 

Pooler  went  out  day  after  day  to  see  them  practice.  He 
was  deeply  interested,  and  not  a  few  fellows  believed  his 
interest  came  from  patriotic  motives. 

He  was  sizing  up  the  nine,  and,  as  the  day  for  the  game 
with  Harvard  approached,  he  became  more  and  more 
nervous. 

"I  can't  lose  this  time !"  he  thought.  "It  will  ruin  me ! 
Merriwell  is  the  moving  spirit  of  the  whole  team.  With 
him  out  of  the  way,  Harvard  would  have  a  walk-over." 

With  him  out  of  the  way ! 

That  thought  kept  running  in  Pink's  head.  How  could 
Merriwell  be  disposed  of  so  he  could  take  no  part  in  the 
game  against  Harvard? 

Pooler  fell  to  scheming.  He  formed  plan  after  plan, 
but  discarded  them  all.  He  thought  of  trying  to  drug 
Frank  on  the  field,  but  that  had  been  tried  too  many  times. 
It  was  dangerous,  and  it  might  not  prove  successful. 

"No,"  he  decided,  "I  will  see  that  he  is  cooked  in  ad- 
vance." 

He  went  into  town,  and  was  seen  talking  with  some  lads 
who  seemed  rather  disreputable  in  appearance. 

Friday  came.     Among  the  first  to  reach  the  park  fbr 


Fighting  a  Gang.  353 

practice  was  Merriwell  and  Hodge.  Frank  was  going  to 
pitch  to  Bart  a  while  before  all  the  team  assembled  on  the 
field. 

It  happened  that  Bart  and  Costigan  were  the  first  to  get 
out  of  the  dressing  room,  and  Frank  was  left  putting  on 
his  shoes.  He  finished  his  task,  and  rose  to  his  feet.  As 
he  did  so,  the  door  opened  and  a  rough-looking  chap 
dodged  in. 

"Hello!"  exclaimed  Frank,  in  surprise.  "Who  are 
you,  and  what  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

The  fellow  caught  up  a  bat  and  swung  it  aloft. 

"Shut  up!"  he  hissed.  "If  you  holler,  I'll  split  your 
head  open!" 

Then  he  gave  a  sharp  whistle. 

Frank  knew  that  whistle  was  a  signal,  and  he  instantly 
realized  crooked  work  was  a-foot.  With  his  eyes  he  meas- 
ured the  distance  to  the  intruder.  An  instant  later,  he 
made  a  catlike  spring,  caught  hold  of  the  bat,  twisted  it 
from  the  fellow's  hand,  and  had  him  by  the  collar. 

"You  infernal  sneak!"  he  cried.  "What  is  your  game? 
I  am  onto  you!" 

The  door  came  open  with  a  bang. 

"Come  on,  fellers !"  cried  the  first  fellow  to  enter.  "We's 
got  him  all  alone !  We  kin  fix  him !" 

Five  or  six  young  ruffians  started  to  swarm  in  at  the 
door.  They  had  heavy  sticks,  and  it  was  plain  they  meant 
to  do  Merriwell  harm. 

The  one  Frank  had  by  the  collar  tried  to  give  him  a 
swinging  blow,  but,  quick  as  a  flash,  Merriwell  caught 
him  up  and  flung  him  straight  at  the  gang  in  the  doorway ! 

The  human  catapult  struck  the  foremost  of  the  ruffians 
and  nearly  swept  them  off  their  feet.  Before  they  could 
recover,  Merry  caught  up  the  bat  and  charged  them. 

Mercilessly  he  belabored  them  over  the  shoulders. 
Once  or  twice  he  cracked  one  on  the  head. 


234  Fighting  a  Gang. 

They  howled  with  terror  and  disgust,  and  Frank  soon 
drove  them  from  the  dressing  room.  He  slammed  the 
door,  barred  it,  and  held  them  out  successfully  till  some  of 
the  other  players  arrived  on  the  field  and  came  to  his 
rescue. 

The  gang,  seeing  they  had  been  baffled  in  their  attempt, 
lost  little  time  in  getting  away. 

"I'd  give  something  to  know  who  put  them  up  to  the 
job,"  said  Frank.  "I  am  sure  they  were  hired  to  do  me 
up.  If  I  had  not  tumbled  and  acted  in  a  hurry,  they  would 
have  done  it  all  right." 

Hodge  was  indignant. 

"I'll  wager  something  I  can  tell  just  who  put  them  up 
to  the  game,"  he  said. 

"Name  him." 

"Pink  Pooler." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"Pooler  hates  you.  He  bet  me  fifty  dollars  Yale  would 
lose  the  game  with  Princeton.  I  beat  him  at  that,  and  I 
know  that  was  not  all  the  money  he  had  on  the  game.  He 
has  put  up  everything  he  could  rake  that  Yale  will  not 
win  the  pennant.  If  Yale  wins,  Pooler  is  ruined.  If  he 
didn't  hire  that  gang  to  do  you  up,  I  don't  know." 

"I  hate  to  think  it  of  him,  but  I  remember  now  that  he 
did  stand  in  with  some  of  my  enemies  who  have  been 
driven  to  leave  college.  I'll  keep  my  eyes  open  for  him  in 
the  future." 

"You  won't  make  a  mistake  if  you  do." 

The  story  of  the  attempt  to  knock  out  Merriwell  caused 
no  small  excitement,  for  Frank  had  hundreds  of  friends, 
and  all  Yale  seemed  to  look  to  him  as  the  Moses  who 
might  lead  them  out  of  the  wilderness. 

The  time  of  the  game  with  Harvard  rolled  round  at  last, 
and  the  boys  from  Cambridge  came  down  in  force.  Root- 
ers with  powerful  lungs  and  tin  horns  galore  were  on  hand. 


Fighting  a  Gang.  335 

Yale  was  at  home,  and  she  was  stuffed  full  of  courage, 
for  all  of  the  queer  team  Frank  had  got  together. 

Yale  started  off  like  winners,  making  two  scores  in  the 
first.  But,  not  to  be  outdone,  Harvard  managed  to  get 
in  two  on  two  scratch  hits  and  as  many  errors. 

Then  both  pitchers  settled  down,  and  not  another  score 
was  made  for  six  innings. 

In  the  seventh  Harvard  scored.  In  the  eighth  Yale  tied 
her.  In  the  ninth  Yale  got  another  and  took  the  lead. 

Then  was  the  time  for  Frank  Merriwell  to  show  the 
timber  he  was  made  of,  and  he  did  so.  Then  it  was  that 
his  double-shoot  came  into  use,  and  won  the  game  by  fool- 
ing three  of  Harvard's  best  batters  so  they  all  struck  out. 

Yale  had  won  the  first  two  games  of  the  series  with 
Princeton  and  Harvard,  and  was  fairly  on  the  road  to  the 
pennant. 

Pink  Pooler  felt  like  murdering  Frank  Merriwell.  He 
took  no  part  in  the  jollification  that  night,  but  kept  at  a 
distance,  listening  with  burning  heart  to  the  songs  and 
cheers  of  the  hilarious  students. 

That  night  he  realized  that  he  was  a  traitor  in  every 
sense  of  the  word,  and  he  was  more  bitter  at  heart  than 
ever  before. 

"Frank  Merriwell  is  responsible  for  it  all,"  he  kept  de- 
claring. "He  has  the  greatest  luck!  Sometime  he  will 
have  the  luck  to  get  it  in  the  neck.  Those  fellows  made  a 
failure  of  the  attempt  to  knock  him  out  before  the  game, 
but  they  got  away  with  my  money,  for  they  would  not 
attempt  thn  job  unless  I  paid  in  advance." 

Although  Frank  knew  he  had  enemies  in  Yale,  he  was 
not  aware  there  was  one  quite  so  desperate  and  dangerous 
as  Pink  Pooler. 

And,  despite  all  his  enemies,  with  the  aid  of  his  double- 
shoot,  he  succeeded  in  piloting  the  Yale  team  to  victory 
that  season.  The  feat  stands  on  record  as  most  remark- 


336  Fighting  a  Gang. 

able,  for  it  was  generally  acknowledged  that  never  had 
Yale  put  a  poorer  team  in  the  field  at  the  opening  of  the 
season. 

It  was  generally  agreed  that  she  won  almost  all  of  her 
games  in  the  box. 


THE  END. 


BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS 


THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu- 
larity accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Merriwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  MerriwelPs  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(i) 


THE  MOTOR  POWER  SERIES 

Donald  Grayson's  Famous 
Motor  Stories  for  Boys  & 

Mr.  Grayson  is  an  accomplished  writer  of  up-to-the- 
minute  juvenile  stories  which  are  eagerly  read  by 
modern  American  lads. 

In  his  new  series,  his  characters  have  exciting  adven- 
tures with  every  kind  of  motor-driven  machines — motor 
cycles,  automobiles,  aeroplanes  and  submarines. 

You  may  readily  see  what  a  vast  field  for  adventures 
Mr.  Grayson  has  chosen. 

Now  Ready 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  CYCLE 

BOB  STEELE  ON  HIGH  GEAR 

BOB  STEELE  FROM  AUTO  TO  AIRSHIP 

BOB  STEELE  AFLOAT  IN  THE  CLOUDS 

BOB  STEELE'S  SUBMARINE  CRUISE 

BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  BOAT 

BOB  STEELE'S  WINNING  RACE 

BOB  STEELE'S  NEW  AEROPLANE 

BOB  STEELE'S  LAST  FLIGHT 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(2) 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY 

NEW  SERIES  of  splendid  tales  of  the  wonderful  and 
li  stirring  adventures  of  boys  who  fought  in  The  Revolu- 
tionary  War,  The  French  and  Indian  Wars,  and  Naval 
Battles  of  1812. 

The  stories  are  written  in  an  intensely  interesting  style,  and  no 
boy  can  read  them  without  being  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
patriotic  enthusiasm. 

We  give  herewith  a  list  of  titles  now  ready.  Read  the  first  and 
you  will  want  to  read  all  the  others.  I2mo.  Cloth,  handsomely 
bound. 

PAUL  REVERE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  Joha  De  Morgan. 

THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

ON  TO  QUEBEC.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FIGHTING  HAL.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

MARION  AND  HIS  MEN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY  BEE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  TORY  PLOT.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE  MEN.    By  Harrie  Irving  Hancock. 

THE  QUAKER  SPY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE.     By  Lieut.  Louneberry. 

THE  YOUNG  PATRIOT.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

"  OLD  PUT  "  THE  PATRIOT.    By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE.    By  Commander  Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER.    By  Capt.  Frank  Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ESSEX.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

LAND  HERO  OF  i8ia.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkis*. 

FOLLOWING  MAD  ANTHONY.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAINS.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  BRADDOCK.    By  'William  Murray  Graydon. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(3) 


THE  ROB  RANGER  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  LIONEL  LOUNSBERRY 

A  capital  series  showing  what  can  be  accomplished  by  a  boy  of  ability  and  courage. 
Rob  is  a  hero  whose  example  of  courage,  honesty  and  manliness  can  be  followed  with 
profit.  Rob's  horse,  Silent  Sam,  and  his  dog  Trumps,  play  an  important  part  in  the 
series,  and  cannot  fail  to  win  admiration  and  affection.  No  better  stories  for  bright 
healthy  boys  could  well  be  imagined. 

ROB   RANGER'S   MINE,  or  THE  BOY  WHO   GOT  THERE.     By  Lieut. 
Lionel  Lounsberry. 

ROB  RANGER   THE  YOUNG   RANCHMAN,  or  GOING  IT  ALONE   AT 

LOST  RIVER.     By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER'S  COWBOY  DAYS,  or  THE  YOUNG  HUNTER  OF  THE 

BIG  HORN.     By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 

Price,  «5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  CIRCUS  SERIES 

BY 

STANLEY  NORRIS  VICTOR  ST.  CLAIR 

Where  is  there  a  boy  who  does  not  love  a  circus  and  who  does  not  also  love  to  take 
a  peep  "  behind  the  scenes  "  of  the  great  white  canvas  ?  There  are  adventures  galore, 
enough  to  satisfy  any  healthy  youngster. 

PHIL   THE    SHOWMAN,    or    LIFE    IN    THE    SAWDUST    RING.     By 

Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  RIVALS,  or  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG   SHOWMAN'S    PLUCK,   or  AN   UNKNOWN    RIDER   IN   THE 

RING.    By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  TRIUMPH,  or  A  GRAND  TOUR  ON  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
ZIG-ZAG,  THE   BOY  CONJURER,  or  LIFE  ON  AND  OFF  THE  STAGE. 

By  Victor  St.  Clair. 
ZIP,  THE  ACROBAT,  or  THE  OLD  SHOWMAN'S  SECRET.    By  Victor 

St.  Clair. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  MATTHEW  WHITE  SERIES 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to  please  the  full- 
blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to  which  there  can  be  any  objection 
from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ATHLETE.— A  «tory  of  how  a  boy  saved  his 

father's  name  and  fortune. 

ERIC  DANE. — Interesting  experiences  of  a.  boy  of  means. 
GUY  HAMMERSLEY.— How  an  energetic  boy  cleared  his  name. 
MY  MYSTERIOUS   FORTUNE.— An   extremely  interesting  story  of  a  $200,000 

check. 
THE  TOUR  OF  A  PRIVATE  CAR.— Interesting  experiences  of  a  young  private 

secretary. 
THE  YOUNG  EDITOR. — Experiences  of  a  bright  boy  editing  a  weekly  paper. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(4) 


The  Famous  Adventure  Series 

An  ideal  series  of  books  for  boys  of  all  ages.  The  stories 
are  of  the  bright  and  sparkling  kind,  full  of  adventures  on 
land  and  sea  and  not  over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions  ; 
in  fact,  just  the  sort  that  must  appeal  to  every  healthy  boy 
who  is  fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism. 

The  names  of  the  authors  give  sufficient  guarantee  to  their 
merits.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Henry  Harrison 
Lewis,  who  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
and  has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys. 

A  VOYAGE  TO  THE  GOLD  COAST.    By  Frank 
H.  Converse. 

An  adventurous  trip  of  New  England  boys  to  Africa. 

CAMP  IN  THE  SNOW.    By  Wm.  Murray  Graydon. 

Boys'  winter  camp  life  in  northern  New  England. 

CENTREBOARD  JIM.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

The  secret  of  Sargasso  Sea. 

FROM  LAKE  TO  WILDERNESS.    By  Wm.  Murray 
Graydon. 

Adventures  around  the  northern  lakes. 

HOW  HE  WON.     By  Brooks  McConnick. 

Triumphs  of  a  plucky  boy  afloat  and  ashore. 

IN   SEARCH    OF   AN    UNKNOWN   RACE.     By 
Frank  H.  Converse. 

A  thrilling  story  of  exploration  in  Brazil. 

KING  OF  THE  ISLAND.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

Strange  adventures  on  a  South  Sea  Island. 

TOM  HAVEN  WITH  THE  WHITE  SQUADRON. 
By  Lieut.  James  K.  Orion. 

The  adventures  of  a  young  inventor  of  a  submarine  boat. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding:,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(5) 


THE  ANNAPOLIS  SERIES 

By  ENSIGN  CLARKE  FITCH,  U.  S.  N. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
thoroughly  familiar  with  all  naval  matters.  Mr.  Fitch  has 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of 
books  for  boys  that  every  young  American  should  read.  His 
stories  are  full  of  interesting  information  about  the  navy, 
training  ships,  etc. 

BOUND  FOR  ANNAPOLIS,  or  The  Trials  of  a  Sailor  Boy. 
CLIP,  THE  NAVAL  CADET,  or  Exciting  Days  at  Annapolis. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TRAINING  SHIP,  or  Clif  Faraday's 
Pluck. 

FROM  PORT  TO  PORT,  or  Clif  Faraday  in  Many  Waters. 
A  STRANGE  CRUISE,  or  Clif  Faraday's  Yacht  Chase. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

THE  WEST  POINT  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  FREDERICK  GARRISON,  U.  S.  A. 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
West  Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject 
could  be  found  than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes 
the  life,  adventures  and  unique  incidents  that  have  occurred 
in  that  great  institution — in  these  famous  West  Point  stories. 

OFF  FOR  WEST  POINT,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Struggle. 
A  CADET'S  HONOR,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Heroism. 
ON  GUARD,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Celebration. 

THE  WEST  POINT  TREASURE,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strange 
Find. 

THE  WEST  POINT  RIVALS,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strategem. 
Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(6) 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 


Return  tt 


)rary  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


A     000  034  444     o 


